Though a printer and dean
Seditiously mean
Our true Irish hearts from old England to wean;
We'll buy English silks, for our wives and our daughters,
In spite of his deanship, and journeyman Waters.
In England the dead in woollen are clad,
The dean and his printer then let us cry fye on;
To be cloth'd like a carcase, would make a Teague mad,
Since a living dog better is than a dead lion.
Our wives they grow sullen
At wearing of woollen,
And all we poor shopkeepers must our horns pull in.
Then we'll buy English silks, for our wives and our daughters,
In spite of his deanship, and journeyman Waters.
Whoever our trading with England would hinder,
To inflame both the nations do plainly conspire;
Because Irish linen will soon turn to tinder,
And wool it is greasy, and quickly takes fire.
Therefore I assure ye,
Our noble grand jury,
When they saw the dean's book, they were in a great fury:
They would buy English silks, for their wives and their daughters,
In spite of his deanship, and journeyman Waters.
This wicked rogue Waters, who always is sinning,
And before corum nobis so oft has been call'd,
Henceforward shall print neither pamphlets nor linen,
And, if swearing can do't, shall be swingingly maul'd:
