The souldiers sad complaint. Per I.H. I. H. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A87000 of text R210566 in the English Short Title Catalog (Thomason 669.f.11[48]). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 3 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2017 A87000 Wing H49 Thomason 669.f.11[48] ESTC R210566 99869350 99869350 162697 2240949305

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A87000) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 162697) Images scanned from microfilm: (Thomason Tracts ; 246:669f11[48]) The souldiers sad complaint. Per I.H. I. H. 1 sheet ([1] p.) s.n., [London : 1647] Imprint from Wing. Verse - "Is this the upshot then? We that have spent" ... Annotation on Thomason copy: "July. 22th". Reproduction of the original in the British Library. eng England and Wales. -- Parliament -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800. Soldiers -- England -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800. Great Britain -- Politics and government -- 1642-1649 -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800. A87000 R210566 (Thomason 669.f.11[48]). civilwar no The souldiers sad complaint. I. H. 1647 1 497 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 A This text has no known defects that were recorded as gap elements at the time of transcription. 2007-09 Assigned for keying and markup 2007-11 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2007-12 Sampled and proofread 2007-12 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2008-02 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
The Souldiers sad Complaint . IS this the upshot then ? We that have spent Our best of Fortunes for a PARLIAMENT ? We that have sweat in bloud , march't o're the Land , And where our feet did tread , our Swords command ? We that like burning Comets did appeare , Striking astonishment with pallid feare , Upon the daring aspect of our Foes , Forcing even Death , under our dreadfull blowes To flagg his fatall Standard ? We that have Been ( as of Banquets ) greedy of a grave ? When through the rivlets of our purple gore Flow'd streames of Victory unto the doore Of our high palmed STATE , made GODS : no lesse ; And only happy through our wretchednesse . When in our calmed postures we draw neare Creeping addresses to that Lofty SPHEAR In naked Bodies , broken Leggs , and Armes , In carved Limbs , which were ere while as Charmes To quiet Death , and make the Furies husht , That we should suffer ? that we should be crusht With those iron hands ( though guilded with our bloud , Not seeking others , but their owne selfe-good ) We have upheld ? when we make humble plea With empty entrailes , for our deare earn'd pay , ( Whilest your enlarded guts , and brawny sides Swine it with Epicurus , stretch your hydes With glorry morsells ) are we kickt away , As if each Wight had turn'd Apostata ? Is this true Vallors pay ? coyn'd out of ayre And envy ? Tyranny ? that doth out-dare The very front of Hell . What , Souldiers ? and thus slighted ? The best of actions are the worst requited . 'T is thought , and fear'd , your eyes that pitty want , Ere long will turne the world all Adamant : And every object by reflection , Be turned into , what you are , a Stone ; Should but your curious , wanton pallats share As formerly our Fortunes , now our fare , ( Who once lay lugging at that Ladyes Papp As full of plenty then , as now , mishap ) A two daies sad experience , would condemne Your great ingratitude ; make you contemne Your cruelties ; and bring home to your Gate As much of love , as hitherto of hate . Who gave your SENAT being ? the Lawes their breath ? Was 't not our bloud ? our hazzarding of death ? And will you counsell murther ? sit to slay Even those by whom you sit , or whom , you stay ? From your full stores , then reach unto poore soules , Of what 's their due : Necessity controules The sharpest Lawes . Oh heare their groanes and cryes Who haplesse lives , and as yet hopelesse dyes . Per I. H. FINIS .