Think, Only but Twice

Bribe. Bribe him 'till his dying breathThat folk of old York spying pestMake him not utter a word out to allMake him your slave your worshipful thrall
Bequeath him not a drop of mercyOr a little pot to broth a remedyNigh devastated he must be to freeThe soul within him that always reeks
Fear not of his undying soulThat will not nor could be tamedLike you tamed his mind to be servileFor fear is less than its name
Think, only but twiceOne as thyself, and one as mineBefore it be the only thing on your mindFrom now and ever afterFrom blind to knowing thy disaster