Who killed—that you may drink, and swear, and eat.
Whilst you applaud those murders which you teach
And live upon the wounds your riots preach.
Mere booty-souls! Who bid us fight a prize
20To feast the laughter of our enemies,
Who shout and clap at wounds, count it pure gain,
Mere Providence to hear a Compton 's slain.
A name they dearly hate, and justly; should
They love 't 'twere worse, their love would taint the blood.
Blood always true, true as their swords and cause,