THE
BRIDEs BURIAL.
To the Tune of The Ladys Fall, etc.
|
COME mourn come mourn come mourn with me,
|
Ye loyal Lovers all;
|
Lament my Loss in Weeds of Woe
|
whom gripping Death doth thrall:
|
Like to the dropping Vine,
|
Cut by the Gardners Knife;
|
Evn so my Heart with sorrow slain,
|
Doth bleed for my sweet Wife.
|
By Death, that grisly Ghost,
|
My Turtle-dove is slain:
|
And I am left unhappy Man!
|
To spend my Days in vain.
|
Her Beauty laid so bright,
|
Like Roses in their Prime,
|
Is waisted like the Mountains Snow,
|
By Force to Phoebus Shrine.
|
Her fair and rosie Cheeks,
|
How pale and wan her Eyes,
|
That late did shine like Chrystal Stars,
|
Alas! their Light now dies;
|
Her pretty Lilly Hands
|
With Fingers long and small,
|
In Colou[r like] the earthly Clay,
|
Yea, cold and stiff withal.
|
When the Morning Star
|
Her golden Gates had spread,
|
And that the glistning Sun arose
|
Forth from fair Thetis Bed;
|
Then did my Love awake,
|
Most like a Lilly Flower,
|
Fair as Dianas Nymphs,
|
So lookd my lovely Bride:
|
And as fair Hellens Face,
|
And as the lovely Queen of Heavn,
|
So shone she in her Brower,
|
Attired was she then,
|
Like Flora in her Pride,
|
Gave Grecian Dames the Lurch;
|
So did my Dear, exceed in Sight,
|
All Virgins in the Church.
|
When we had knit the Knot
|
Of holy Wedlocks Band,
|
Like Alabaster joind to Jet,
|
So stood we Hand in Hand:
|
Then lo! a chilling Cold
|
Struck evry vital Part,
|
And griping Grief, like Pangs of Death,
|
Seizd on my true Loves Heart.
|
Down in a Swoon she fell,
|
As cold as any Stone,
|
Like Venus Picture wanting Life,
|
So was my Love brought Home:
|
At length a rosie Red,
|
Throughout her comely Face,
|
As Phebus Beams, with watry Clouds,
|
Oer covered for a Space.
|
Then with a grevious Groan,
|
And Voice both hoarse and dry;
|
Farewel quoth she, my loving Friend,
|
For I this Day must die:
|
The Messenger of Death,
|
With golden Trump I see,
|
With many other Angels more,
|
Which sound and call for me.
|
Instead of Musick sweet,
|
Go toll my Passing bell;
|
And with sweet Flowers strew my Grave,
|
That in my Chamber smell:
|
Strip off my Brides Array,
|
My Cork Shoes from my Feet,
|
And gentle Mother be not slow
|
To bring my winding-sheet.
|
My Wedding Dinner dressd,
|
Bestow upon the Poor
|
And to the Hungry, Blind, and Maimd,
|
That craveth at the Door:
|
Instead of Virgins young,
|
My Bride Bed for to see,
|
Go cause some curious Carpenter,
|
To make a Chest for me.
|
My Bride Laces of Silk,
|
Bestow on Maidens meet;
|
May fitly serve when I am dead,
|
To tie my Hands and Feet:
|
And thou my Lover true,
|
My Husband and my Friend,
|
Let me intreat thee here to stay,
|
Until my Life doth end.
|
Now leave to talk of Love,
|
And humbly on your Knee,
|
Direct your Prayers unto God,
|
And mourn no more for me.
|
In Love as we have livd,
|
In Love let us depart;
|
And in Token of my Love,
|
Kiss thee with all my Heart.
|
Oh! stop these bootless Tears,
|
Thy weeping is in vain;
|
I am not lost, for we in Heaven,
|
Shall one Day meet again:
|
With that she turnd aside,
|
As one disposd to sleep,
|
Like to a Lamb departed Life,
|
All Friends did sorely weep.
|
Her true Love seeing this,
|
Did fetch a grevious Groan,
|
As though his Heart would burst in two,
|
And thus he made his Moan:
|
Oh! dismal mournful Day,
|
A Day of Grief and Care,
|
That hath bereft the Sun so high,
|
Whose beams refresh the Air.
|
Now We unto the World,
|
And all that therein dwell:
|
Oh! that I were with her in Heaven
|
For here I live in Hell;
|
And now this Lover lives
|
A discontented Life,
|
Whose Bride was brought unto the Grave,
|
A Maiden and a wife.
|
A Garland fresh and fair
|
Of Lillies there were made,
|
In Sign of her Virginity,
|
And on her Coffin laid:
|
Six Maidens all in white,
|
Did bear her to the Ground;
|
The Bell did ring in solemn Sort,
|
And made a doleful sound.
|
In Earth they laid her then,
|
For hungry Worms a prey;
|
So will the fairest Face alive,
|
At length be brought to Clay.
|
Thus do you see by this,
|
How frail is Life, and Grace;
|
Which bids us all prepare,
|
For that blessd happy Place.
|
|
|
|
|
|