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EBBA 35508

Houghton Library - Hazlitt EC65
Ballad XSLT Template
A Lamentable ballad on the Earl of Essexs Death.
Tune is, Essex last Goodnight.

ALL you that cry O hone, O hone,
come now and sing O hone with me,
For why our Jewel is from us gone,
the valiant Knight of Chivalry:
Of rich and poor belov'd was he,
in time an honourable knight,
When by our Laws condemn'd to die,
He lately took his last Goodnight.

Count him not like to Champion,
those traiterous men of Babington,
Nor like the Earl of Westmoorland,
by whom a number were undone:
He never yet hurt Mothers Son,
his quarrel still maintains the right,
Which the tears my face down run,
when I think on his last goodnight.

The Portugals can witness be,
his Dagger at Lisbon gate he flung,
And like a Knight of Chivalry,
his Chain upon the Gate he hung;
I would to God that he would come,
to fetch them back in order right,
Which thing was by his honour done,
yet lately took their last goodnight.

The French-men they can testifie,
the town of Gourney he took in,
And marcht to Rome immediately,
not caring for his foes a pin:
With Bullets then he pierc'd his skin,
and made them fly from his sight:
He there that time did credit win,
and now hath tane his last goodnight.

And stately Cales can witness be,
even by his Proclamation right,
And did command them all straightly,
to have a care of Infants lives,
And that none should hurt man or wife,
which was against their right;
Therefore they pray'd for his long life,
which lately took his last goodnight.

would God he ne'er had Ireland known,
nor set one foot on Flanders ground,
Then might we well injoy'd our own,
where now our jewel will not be found,
which makes our foes still abound;
trickling with sal[t] tears in our sight,
To hear his name in our ears to sound,
Lord Deverux took his last goodnight.

Ash wednesday, that dismal day,
when he came forth his Chamber door,
Upon a Scaffold there he saw,
his Headsman standing him before:
His Nobles all they did deplore,
shedding salt tears in his sight,
He said farewel to rich and poor,
at his goodmorrow and goodnight.

My Lords, said he, you stand but by
to see performance of the law,
It is I that have deserv'd to die,
and yield myself unto the blow;
I have deserv'd to die I know,
but ne'er against my Countries right,
Nor to my Queen was ever foe,
upon my death at my goodnight.

Farewel, Elizabeth, my gracious Queen,
God bless thee with thy Council all;
Farewel my Knights of Chivalry,
farewel my Souldiers stout and tall,
Farewel the Commons great and small,
into the hands of men I light,
My life shall make amends for all,
for Essex bids the world goodnight.

Farewel dear wife, and children three,
farewel my kind and tender son;
Comfort yourselves, mourn not for me,
although your fall be now begune,
My time is come, my glass is run,
comfort yourself in former light,
Seeing by my fall you are undone,
your Father bids the world goodnight.

Derick, thou know'st at Cales I sav'd
thy life, lost for a Rape there done,
As thou thyself canst testifie,
thine own hand three and twenty hung,
But now thou seest myself is come,
by chance into thy hands I light,
Strike out thy blow. that I may know,
thou Essex lov'd at his goodnight.

when England counted me a Papist,
the works of papists I defie,
I ne're worshipt Saint nor Angel in Heaven,
nor the Virgin Mary, I;
But to Christ, which for my sins did die,
trickling with salt tears in his sight,
Spreading my arms to God on high,
Lord Jesus receive my soul this night.


Printed by and for A.M. and sold by the
booksellers of London.

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