A mournefull Dittie, entituled Elizabeths losse, together with a welcome
for King James.
To a pleasant new tune.
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FArewell, farewell, farewell,
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brave Englands joy:
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Gone is thy friend
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that kept thee from annoy.
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Lament, lament, lament
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you English Peeres,
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Lament your losse
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possest so many yeeres.
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Gone is thy Queene, the
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paragon of time,
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On whom grim death
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hath spred his fatall line.
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Lament, lament, etc.
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Gone is that gem which
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God and man did love,
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She hath us left
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to dwell in heaven above.
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Lament, lament, etc.
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You gallant Ladies
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of her Princely traine,
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Lament your losse
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your love, your hope, and gaine.
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Lament, lament, etc.
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Weepe wring your hands,
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all clad in mourning weeds,
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Shew foorth your love,
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in tongue in hart and deeds.
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Lament, lament, etc.
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Full foure and fortie yeeres
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foure moneths seaven dayes,
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She did maintaine this realme
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in peace alwayes.
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Lament, lament, etc.
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In spite of Spaines proud Pope,
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and all the rout,
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Who Lyon like ran
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ranging round about.
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Lament, lament, etc.
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With traiterous plots to slay
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her Royall grace,
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Her realme, her lawes
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and Gospell to deface,
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Lament, lament, etc.
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Yet time and tide God still
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was her defence,
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Till for himselfe from us
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hee tooke her hence
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Lament, lament, etc.
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We neede not to rehearse
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what care what griefe,
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She still endured,
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and all for our reliefe.
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Lament, lament, etc.
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We neede not to rehearse
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what benefits,
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You all injoyd, what pleasures
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and what gifts.
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Lament, lament, etc.
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You Virgins all bewayle
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your Virgin Queene,
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That Phenix rare,
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on earth but sildome seene.
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Lament, lament, etc.
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With Angels wings she pearst
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the starrie skie,
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When death, grim death,
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hath shut her mortall eye.
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Lament, lament, etc.
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You Nimphs that sing and bathe,
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in Fountaines cleere:
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Come lend your helpe to sing
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in mournefull cheere.
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Lament, lament, etc.
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All you that doe professe
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sweet musicks Art,
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Lay all aside, your Vyoll
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Lute and Harpe,
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Lament, lament, etc.
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Mourne Organs, Flutes,
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mourne Sagbuts with sad sound:
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Mourne Trumpets shrill,
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mourne Cornets mute & round.
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Lament, lament, etc.
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You Poets all brave Shakspeare,
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Johnson, Greene,
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Bestow your time to write
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for Englands Queene.
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Lament, lament, etc.
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Returne your songs and Sonnets
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and your sayes:
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To set foorth sweete
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Elizabeths praise.
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Lament, lament, etc.
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In fine all you
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that loyall harts possesse,
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With Roses sweete,
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bedeck hir Princely hearse.
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Lament, lament, etc.
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Bedeck that hearse
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sprong from that famous King,
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King Henrie the eight,
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whose fame on earth doth ring[.]
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Lament, lament, etc.
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Now is the time that we
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must all forget,
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Thy sacred name
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oh sweet Elizabeth.
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Lament, lament, etc.
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Praying for King James,
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as earst we prayed for thee,
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In all submissive love
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and loyaltie.
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Lament, lament, etc.
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Beseeching God to blesse
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his Majestie
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With earthly peace
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and heavens felicitie.
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Lament, lament, etc.
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And make his raigne
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more prosperous here on earth
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Then was the raigne
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of late Elizabeth.
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Lament, lament, etc.
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Wherefore all you
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that subjects true beare names:
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Still pray with me, and say
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God save King James.
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Lament, lament, lament,
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you English Peeres,
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Lament your losse enjoyd
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so many yeeres.
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