The Ladies Lamentation,
OR, THE
Commanders last Farewell,
Who Valliantly lost his Life in the late Engagement; for the loss
of whom his Loving Lady Laments.
Tune of, Languishing Swain. Licensed according to Order.
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I.
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IN London liv'd a Squire, where
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He long enjoy'd a Lady fair,
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At length he to the Wars must go,
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To face the proud insulting Foe.
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II.
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While Sailing in the Royal Fleet,
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By which the French was fairly beat,
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It was his Fortune then to fall
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In battle by a Cannon-Ball.
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III.
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The tydings came that he was slain,
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She wrung her hands and wept amain,
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And with lamenting cries, said she,
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My dear would I had dy'd for thee.
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IV.
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What Joy or Pleasure can I have,
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While he lies sleeping in the Grave,
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In whom I plac'd my chief delight,
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All pleasure now has taken flight.
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V.
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He's gone, I ne'er shall see him more,
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Behold the World cannot restore
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That fatal loss which I sustain,
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He now lies sleeping with the Slain.
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VI.
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The bloody wars by Land and Sea,
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Alas! may well lamented be;
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For while men do for Conquest strive,
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War parts the dearest Friends alive.
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VII.
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See women loose their Husbands here,
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And Parents too their Children dear:
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Thus while the Sword is drawn, we find,
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It causes grief to women-kind.
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VIII.
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By true experience have I found
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Some thousands are encompast round,
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With grief and sorrow now this da'y,
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And I am so as well as they.
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IX.
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Mine eyes like streams & fountains flow,
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My heart's opprest with grief and woe,
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The loss of my brave Hero bold,
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is more to me than Crowns of Gold.
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X.
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Had I an Earthly Diadem,
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I'de fr[e]ely give it now for him;
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But had I that and ten times more,
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All this would not his Life restore.
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XI.
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The inward torment which I feel,
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I am not able to conceal:
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But to the world I here declare,
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My grief is more than I can bear.
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XII.
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Take hence my Jewels, Chains & Rings,
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Rich Diamonds, all such gawdy things,
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And Robes of Sable let me have,
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Now to go mourning to my Grave.
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XIII.
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Since thus I do in torment dwell,
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All Earthly glory now fare well,
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There's nothing stedfast here below,
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All things are turning too and fro.
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XIV.
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Alas my splendid glory bright,
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Was in a moment blasted quite,
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And I in strange confusion hurl'd,
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There's nothing stedfast in the world.
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