Watch Tonight, Pray Tomorrow. Gallants, Lads, Boys,

The Bay-trees In Our Country Are All Withered, And Meteors Fright The Fixèd Stars Of Heaven. The Pale-faced Moon Looks Bloody On The Earth, And Lean-looked Prophets Whisper Fearful Change. Rich Men Look Sad, And Ruffians Dance And Leap; The One In Fear To Lose What They Enjoy, The Other To Enjoy By Rage And War. These Signs Forerun The Death Or Fall Of Kings.

For I Am Proverbed With A Grandsire Phrase.

Awake, Awake, English Nobility! Let Not Sloth Dim Your Horrors New-begot.

By Being Seldom Seen, I Could Not Stir But Like A Comet I Was Wondered At.

He Was Met Even Now As Mad As The Vex'd Sea; Singing Aloud; Crown'd With Rank Fumiter And Furrow-weeds, With Bur-docks, Hemlock, Nettles, Cuckoo-flowers, Darnel, And All The Idle Weeds That Grow In Our Sustaining Corn.