In Reading town we ne'er went to bed; Every soul there mounted his horse, 10 Hoping next day to fill them with dread; Yet I swear by St. Patrick's cross, We most shamefully was routed: Fortune was pleased to give us a frown, And blasted our glory: I'll tell you the story, 15 By Chreest and St. Patrick we all go down. We thought to slay them all in their sleep, But by my shoul, were never the near, The hereticks their guard did so keep, Which put us in a trembling fear. 20 We concluded something further, To seize the churches all in the town, With killing and slaying, while they were a praying, But we were routed, and soon run down. Nay, before noon, we vowed to despatch 25 Every man, nay, woman and child; This in our hearts we freely did hatch, Vowing to make a prey of the spoil. But we straightways was prevented, When we did hope for fame and renown; 30 In less than an hour we [are] forcéd to scoure; By Chreest and St. Patrick, we are run down. We were resolved Reading to clear, Having in hand the flourishing sword; The bloody sceen was soon to appear, 35 For we did then but wait for the word: While the ministers were preaching, We were resolved to have at their gown; But straight was surrounded, and clearly confounded, By Chreest and St. Patrick, we all go down. 40 Just as we all were fit to fall on, In came the Dutch with fury and speed; And amongst them there was not a man, But what was rarely mounted indeed; And rid up as fierce as tygers, 45 Knitting their brows, they on us did frown; Not one of them idle, their teeth held their bridle, By Chreest and St. Patrick, we were run down. They never stood to use many words, But in all haste up to us they flocked, 50 In their right hands their flourishing swords, And their left carbines ready cock'd. We were forced to fly before them, Thorow the lanes and streets of the town; While they pursued after, and threaten'd a slaughter, 55 By Chreest and St. Patrick, we were run down. Then being fairly put to the rout, Hunted and drove before 'um like dogs, Our captain bid us then face about, But we wisht for our Irish bogs. 60 Having no great mind for fighting, The Dutch did drive us thorow the town; Our foreheads we crossed, yet still was unhorsed, By Chreest and St. Patrick, we're all run down.