The Traveler's Repentance:
OR, THE
Death-bed Tears, last Dying-sayings, & serious Exhortations
OF
ROBERT GODFREY,
Late of Reading in Bark-shire, who departed this Life in Lon-
don, on the 27th of August, and was decently interr'd in the Parish of
St. Mary Alderman-bury, on the 31st of the said Month, in the said City.
Licens'd according to Order. To the Tune of, The Jealous Lover.
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REturn, return, now, now, I must,
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From Worldly Pleasures, unto Dust;
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For Death the Fatal Stroke will give,
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I have not many Days to live.
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OUt of the World I now must go,
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In melting Sorrow, Grief and Woe;
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My latter Minutes now I spend,
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Knowing I did the Lord offend,
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BY living here at such a rate,
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Regarding not a Future State,
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Till now the Fatal Hand of Death
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Is come to snatch my Vital Breath.
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ELizabeth, my lawful Wife,
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Come see the Period of my Life,
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And don't revile me when I'm dead,
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Although a sinful Life I led;
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REgard my Dying Words, I pray,
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If you have any Love this day;
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'Tho' I have been unkind to thee,
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Yet let us part in Charity:
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THis on a Dying-bed I crave;
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Deny me not, but let me have
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The grant of such a small Request;
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O let me Ashes lye at rest.
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GOod Lord, to thee I make my moan,
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O mollifie his Heart of stone,
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That with repenting Tears I may
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Labour to wash my Sins away.
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ON thee alone I do rely.
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Be pleased then to cast an eye
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Of pity on my sad distress,
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Who does in grief my Sins confess.
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DAy after Day, Year after Year,
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I took delight in Folly here.
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And never thought upon the Grave,
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The Portion which all Men must have.
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FRom place to place I travell'd still,
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My Bags with cursed Gold to fill;
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In which no Solid Joys I find,
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For I must leave it all behind.
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REpentance I regarded not,
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I labour'd for I know not what,
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Except it was to satisfie
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A craving Heart and greedy Eye.
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EVil Society I find
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Has caused me much grief of mind;
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Would I had never been drawn aside
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From she who is my lawful Bride.
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YEt ne'er the less, without delay,
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Upon my Pillow, Night and Day,
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For all my Sins in Tears I'll grieve,
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In hopes of Pardon to receive.
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For God is merciful and just,
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In him alone I'll put my trust;
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He will not leave me comfortless,
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Altho' I did his Laws transgress.
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I'll wrastle for the Blessing still,
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And then at length perhaps he will
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Vouchsafe to speak a Word of Peace,
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Which will my perfect Joys encrease.
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The latter Minutes in my Glass,
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From Grace to Glory let me pass,
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The Place of Everlasting Joy,
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Which Time or Death shall ne'er destroy.
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You that my Dying Words may hear,
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Take care and be not too severe
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In judging me when I am gone,
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For that belongs to God alone.
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Farewel the World, my Friends adieu,
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This Day I take my leave of you;
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Then did he turn his Head aside,
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And, with a sigh or two, he dy'd.
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In Reading many Years he dwelt,
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Yet ne'er the less at length he felt
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The Pangs of Death in London-Town,
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Within those Walls his Sun went down.
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His Travels there was at an end;
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His Soul to God he did commend,
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To live in true felicity:
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I wish none die no worse than he.
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