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Am the Recusant, in that resolute State [f. 30v]
What hurtes it Mee to bee Excomunicate?
Elegie .10.
Till I haue Peace with thee, warre other Men
And when I haue Peace, can I leave thee then?
All other Warres are scupelous;* onelie Thou
O faire free Cittie maist thy self allow
To anie one: In Flanders who can tell
Whether the Master presse or Men rebell?
Onelie wee know that, wch all Ideotts say
They beare most Blowes, wch come to part the Fray;
France in her lunatique giddines did hate
Ever our Men, yea and our God of late.
Yet shee relyes vpon our Angelles well
Which nere returne; Noe more then they wch fell;
Sick Ireland is with a strang Warre possest,
Like to an Ague, now raging, now at rest,
Which Time will cure; yet it must doe her good
If shee were purg'd, and her head vayne lett blood.
And Midas ioyes, our Spanish Iourneyes giues
Wee touch all Gold, but find noe food to live.
And I should bee in the hott parching Clyme

[CW: To]