A Godly Song, entituled, A farewell to the World, made by a
Godly Christian, named Thomas Byll, being the Parish Clerke of West-
Felton, as he lay upon his Death-bed, shewing the vanitie of the World, and
his desire to be dissolved. To the Tune of, Fortune my Foe.
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BEhold O Lord a Sinner in distresse,
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Whose heart is vext with inward heavinesse;
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Remit my sinnes my God, and mercie showe,
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For here I live in griefe, perplext with woe,
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All flesh is frayle, and brittle like to glasse,
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Mans life like fading Flowers away doth passe,
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My time is come that I from hence must goe,
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Then for sweet Jesus sake Lord mercy showe.
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The day and houre is come that I must dye,
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I trust my Soule shall strait ascend the skye,
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Where Saints and Angells ever doe rejoyce,
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Giving him praises due with heart and voice.
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Oh sinfull Man deferre not thou the time,
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Up Jacobs Ladder Father let me clime,
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Where as thy Angells up and down descend,
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Betwixt my Soule and Bodie at my end.
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I must not die never to rise againe,
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But I must die for to be freed from paine;
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My Saviour by his death hath bought my life,
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To raigne with him when finisht is this strife.
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My earthly Spirits fayle, my time is ran,
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My face is wan, thy Messenger is come,
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A welcome Guest that welcome is to mee,
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To beare me hence unto felicitie.
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My Sun is sette, I have not long to stay,
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But ere the morning I shall see a day
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That shall outshine the splendor of the Sun,
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When to the holy Trinity I come.
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Me thinks I (casting up my dying eyes)
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Behold the Lord in glory on the skies,
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With all his heavenly Angells in that place,
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Smiling with joy to see his cheerefull face.
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Both King and Kesar every one must die,
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The stoutest heart the sting of death must trie,
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The Rich, the Poore, the Aged, and the Babe,
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When Sickle comes each flower then doth fade.
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Then World farewell, I see all is but vaine,
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From dust I came, to dust I must againe,
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No humane pomps our life from death can stay,
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When time is come we must forthwith away.
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For worldlie pleasure is but vanitie,
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None can redeeme this life from death I see,
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Nor Cresus wealth, nor Alexanders fame,
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Nor Sampsons strength that could deaths fury tame
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Our Father Adam he for sin did fall,
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Which brought destruction present on us all:
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But heavenly Father thou thy Sonne didst send,
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Us to redeeme his deerest blood did spend,
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Farewell deere Wife and my seven Children small
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For I must goe when as the Lord doth call:
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The Glasse is run, my time is past away,
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The trumpe doth sound, I can no longer stay.
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Nothing but one I in this world doe crave,
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That is, to bring my Corpes dead to the Grave;
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And Angells shall my Soule in safetie keepe,
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Whilst that my Bodie in the grave doth sleepe.
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The Bells most sweetly ringing doe I heere,
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And now sterne death with speed apprecheth neere;
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But the Bell towling doe I heare at last,
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Sweet Lord receive my Soule when death is past.
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FINIS.
Thomas Byll.
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The Soules Petition at Heaven Gate;
Or, the Second Part of the Clerke of West-Felton, being Thomas Byll.
To the same Tune.
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O God which framedst both the earth and skye,
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With speed give eare unto my wofull crye,
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Receive my Soule with thee for to remaine,
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In Angells blisse, where thou O Lord dost reigne.
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Though I against thy Lawes rebelled have,
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For my rebellion Lord I mercie crave,
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Remit my sinnes though I have don amisse,
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For Jesus sake take me into true blisse.
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Where joyes are evermore without an end,
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And heavenly Quiristers the rime doth spend,
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In singing Himnes and praises to the Lord,
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Lifting up heart and voice with one accord.
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Oh, what a comfort is it for to s[e]e
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The sacred Face of such a Majestie,
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As thou O God, amongst thy Angells bright,
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The which no mortall can behold with sight.
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Cast me not Lord out from before that face.
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But with thy Saints grant me a dwelling place,
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And from thy Throane, O Lord doe not expell
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My Soule, but grant that it with thee may dwell.
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Let me with David beg to keepe a doore,
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In that hie Court, where joyes are evermore,
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In Abrahams bosome Father let me sit,
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Cast not my Soule into the fierie pit.
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Consume [m]e not in thy provoked ire,
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But mercie grant O Lord I thee desire,
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And though I [t]hee offended have by sinne,
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S[h]ut not the [d]oore, but let me enter in.
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I must confesse I thee offended have,
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And am not worthy pardon for to crave,
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But now with thee all mercy is alone,
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To whom my Soule for mercy now is flowne.
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Take pitty then O Lord for Jesus sake,
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Into thy Tabernacle my Soule take:
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Remember how thy Sonne for me hath dyde,
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And for my sake deathes passions did abide.
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He is the Key the gate for to unlock,
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He makes me entrance when my soule doth knock,
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Unto repentant Soules he promise gave
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That they with him a place in Heaven should have.
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Then open unto me O Lord thy Gate,
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Where thou as King dost raigne in high estate,
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Confound me not with them that wicked are,
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But in thy mercies let me have a share.
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Deale not in justice with my Soule O Lord,
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For then a heavie sentence thoult award;
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If sinfull Soules should have their due desert,
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In Hells hot flame they should for ever smart:
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Grant that my Soule may enter in true blisse,
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Condeme me not though I have don amisse,
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But let my Soule with heavenly Angells sing,
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Most joyfully to thee my Lord and King.
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For there are joyes which ever shall endure,
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The waters sweet of Life flow there most pure,
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There shall no worldly cares our minds molest,
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But there shall we remaine in truest rest.
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Which blest inheritance O Lord I pray,
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Give to each Christian in thy righteous way:
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Grant that we all may gaine felicitie,
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In Heaven to dwell above the starrie skie.
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FINIS.
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