The Lamenting Ladies last Farewel to the
WORLD.
Who being in a strange Exile, bewails her own Misery, complains
upon fortune and destiny, describeth the manner of her breeding,
deplores the loss of her Parents, wishing peace and happiness to
England, which was her native Country, and withal resolving for
death, chearfully commended her Soul to Heaven, and her body to
the earth, and quietly departed this Life, Anno. 1650.
To an Excellent new Tune; O Hone, O hone.
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MOurnful Melpomony,
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assist my Quill,
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That I may pensively
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now make my will:
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Guide thou my hand to write,
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And senses to indite,
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A Ladies last good night,
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O pitty me.
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I that was nobly born,
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hither am sent,
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Like to a wretch forlorn,
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here to lament:
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In this most strange Exile,
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Here to remain a while,
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Till Heaven be pleasd to smile
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and send for me.
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My friends cannot come nigh
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me in this place,
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Nor bear me company,
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such is my case:
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Poor I am left alone,
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But few regard my moan,
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All my delights are gone,
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heaven succour me.
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Each day with care and fears,
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I am perplext,
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My drink is brinish tears,
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with sorrow mixt:
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When others soundly sleep,
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I sadly sob and weep,
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Opprest with dangers deep;
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Lord comfort me.
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WHen England flourished,
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my Parents dear,
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Tenderly nourished,
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me many a year:
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I was advancd on high,
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In place of Dignity,
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In Golden bravery,
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they decked me.
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My garments deckt with gold,
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richly approved,
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Never was English Girl,
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better beloved:
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Old and young, great and small,
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Waited upon my call,
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I had the Love of all,
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that did know me.
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But from my former state,
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I am calld back,
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Through destiny and fate,
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all goes to wrack:
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Fortune did lately frown,
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And caught me by the crown,
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So pulld me headlong down,
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oh woe is me.
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My dear friends are decayd,
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which lovd me best,
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Never was harmless Maid
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so much distrest:
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My father he is dead,
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My Mother banished,
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All joys are from me fled,
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heavens comfort me.
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How well are they at ease,
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and sweetly blest,
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That may go where they please,
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and when they list:
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To see their Parents kind,
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As nature doth them bind,
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Such joys I cannot find,
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oh woe is me.
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All earthly helps are gone,
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I will and must,
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Onely in God alone,
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put my whole trust:
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O blessed Trinity,
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One God and Persons three,
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Release my Misery,
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and comfort me.
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No Creature on the Earth,
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can ease my grief,
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Until such time as death
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yields me relief:
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A Coffin and a Grave,
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Is that which I would have,
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Sweet Christ my Soul receive,
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and succour me.
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My Enemies that be,
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both great and small,
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Good Lord I pray to thee,
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forgive them all:
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May England flourish brave,
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When I am laid in Grave,
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So thus I take my leave,
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Christ calls for me.
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I have in Heaven above,
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a place prepard,
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Never shall I depart,
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from thence afterwards,
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Go toll my Passing-Bell,
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Whilst Angels ring my Knell,
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So vain world now farewel,
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Christ sends for me.
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When she these words had spoke,
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with chearful heart,
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The Noble-minded Maid,
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then did depart:
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No doubt her Souls at rest,
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With them whom God hath blest
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The last words she Exprest,
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was, Christ calls for me.
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