<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=506358" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Cavalier Tunes: Marching Along</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King,<br> Bidding the crop-headed Parliament swing:<br> And, pressing a troop unable to stoop<br> And see the rogues flourish and honest folk droop,<br> Marched them along, fifty score strong,<br> Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.<br> God for King Charles! Pym and such carles<br> To the Devil that prompts 'em their treasonous parles!<br> Cavaliers, up! Lips from the cup,<br> Hands from the pasty, nor bite take nor sup<br> Till you're--<br> (Chorus)<br> Marching along, fifty-score strong,<br> Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Hampden to hell, and his obsequies' knell.<br> Serve Hazelrig, Fiennes, and young Harry as well!<br> England, good cheer! Rupert is near!<br> Kentish and loyalists, keep we not here<br> (Chorus)<br> Marching along, fifty-score strong,<br> Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Then, God for King Charles! Pym and his snarls<br> To the Devil that pricks on such pestilent carles!<br> Hold by the right, you double your might;<br> So, onward to Nottingham, fresh for the fight,<br> (Chorus)<br> March we along, fifty-score strong,<br> Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Browning">Robert Browning</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=506358" data-title="Cavalier Tunes: Marching Along de Robert Browning" data-description="Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King, Bidding the crop-headed Parliament swing: And, pressing a troop unable to stoop And see the rogues flourish and honest folk droop, Marched them along, fifty score strong, Great-hearted gentlemen, singing t..."></div> </div> </div>

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