THE
Lamenting Ladys farewel to the World.
Who being in a strange Exile, Bewails her own Misery, Complains upon Fortune and Destiny,
Describes the Manner of Her Breeding, Deplores the loss of her Parents, wishing Peace
and Happiness to England, which was her Native Country: And withall, Resolved for
Death Cheerfully, Commended her Soul to Heaven, and her Body to the Earth, and quietly
Departed this Life, Anno 1650.
To an Excellent New Tune, Called, Oh hone, Oh hone
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MOurnful Melpomeny,
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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 hands to write
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And senses to endite
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A Ladies last goodnight:
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Oh pity 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 to 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 cares 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 nourishd me
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many a year.
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I was advanced on by
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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 drest with pearl
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richly approvd
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Never was English girle
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better belovd:
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Old & young great and smal
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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 hath lately frown,
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And catcht me by the crown,
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So pulld me headlong down
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Oh wo is me.
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My dear friends are decayed
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which loved 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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heaven 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 when they pleas
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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 joies I cannot find:
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Oh, wo is me.
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All Earthly joies are gone,
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I will and must
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Only 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 this Earth,
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can ease my grief,
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Untill such times as death
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yeild me Relief,
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A Coffing 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 flowrish 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 sends for me.
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I have in Heaven above,
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a Place prepard,
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Never shal I remove,
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from thence afterward,
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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 farewel,
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Christ sends for me.
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When she these words had said
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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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