294 Upon Arch-bishop Laud, Prisoner in the Tower. 1641
Our Canterburye’s great Cathedrall Bell
Seldome rings out, but makes a fatall knell.
Her loud unpleasing warring-jarring sound
The noyse of all our well-tun’d Bells hath drown’d.
5 Shee lately rang so loud, I am in doubt
Shee had almost struck Lincolne’s clapper out.
It is reported by the men of Kent,
Shee sound’s such discord, shee gives no content;
But that shee’s ponderous, and so great, the People
10 Would very gladly pull her out o’th’steeple.
Shee makes an hideous noyse with her Bum-Bom,
As did the roaring Bull that came from Rome.
Shee’le serve for nothing, shee’s so full of brasse,
But for to ring the Catholicks to Masse.
15 Except the Parliament will take this Bell,
And cast her new agayne, or hang her well;
And make both her, and all the rest, that are
So bigge, more tuneable, though lesse by farre.
Then they, that wont to ring so seldome well,
20 May prove each one a constant Sermon-Bell.
So shall wee have good Musick, and lesse noyse;
And have our Church purg’d from new-fangled toyes.