The daughter of debate, that eke discord doth sowe
Shall reap no game where former rule hath taught still peace to growe.
No forreine banisht wight shall ancre in this port,
Our realme it brookes no strangers force, let them elsewhere resort.
Our rusty sword with rest, shall first his edge employ,
To polle their toppes that seeke such change and gape for joye.
3. Answer to a Popish Priest, Giving Her Opinion on the Corporeal Presence
Christ was the Word that spake it;
He took the bread, and brake it:
And what that Word did make it,