There's a man in Brixham town
Of office, and in gown,
Strove to put singing down,
Which most of men adore.
For House of God unmeet,
The voice and organ sweet!
When pious men do meet,
To praise their God before.
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Go question Holy writ,
And you will find in it,
That seemly 'tis and fit,
To praise and hymn the Lord.
On cymbal and on lute,
On organ and on flute,
With voices sweet, that suit;
All in a fair concord.
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In Samuel you may read
How one was troubled,
Was troubled indeed,
Who crown and sceptre bore;
An evil spirit lay
On his mind both night and day,
That would not go away,
And vexed him very sore.
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Then up and uttered one,
Said, "Jesse hath a son,
Of singers next to none;
David his name they say."
"So send for David, fleet,
To make me music sweet,
That the spirit may retreat,
And go from me away."
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Now when that David, he
King Saul had come to see,
And playèd merrily.
Upon his stringèd harp,
The Devil in all speed,
With music ill agreed,
From Saul the King, he fleed,
Impatient to depart.
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