The Lamenting Ladies last farewell to the World. Who being in a strange Exile, bewailes her own Misery, complains upon Fortune and Destiny, describes the manner of her breeding, deplores the losse of her Parents, wishing Peace and happines to England, which was her native Country, and withal resolved for death chearfuly, com- mended her soule to heaven, and her body to the earth, and qui- etly departed this life. Anno 1650. To an excellent new Tune, called, Oh hone, O hone.
|
MOurnfull Melpomeny,
|
assist my quill,
|
That I may pensively
|
now make my will:
|
Guide thou my hand to write
|
And sences to indite,
|
A Ladyes last good-night.
|
oh pity me.
|
I that was nobly born
|
hither am sent,
|
Like to a wretch forlorn,
|
here to lament.
|
In this most strange exile.
|
Here to remaine a while,
|
Til heaven be pleas'd to smile
|
and send for me.
|
My friends cannot come nigh
|
me in this place,
|
Nor bear me company.
|
such is my case.
|
Poor I, am left alone,
|
But few regard my mone,
|
All my delights are gone,
|
heaven succour me,
|
Each day with cares and fears.
|
I am perplext.
|
My drink is brinish tears,
|
with sorrow mixt,
|
When others soundly sleep,
|
I sadly sob and weep
|
Opprest with dangers deep
|
Lord comfort me.
|
When England flourished.
|
my Parents deer,
|
Tenderly nourished
|
me many a year,
|
I was advanc'd on high,
|
In place of dignity,
|
In golden bravery
|
they decked me.
|
|
|
|
|
The second pa[rt], [?]
|
MY garments drest with pearl
|
richly approved,
|
Never was English girle
|
better beloved,
|
Old and young, great and smal
|
Waited upon my cal.
|
I had the love of all
|
that did know me,
|
But from my former state
|
I am cal'd back.
|
Through destiny and fate,
|
all goes to wrack.
|
Fortune did lately frown,
|
And caught me by the Crowne,
|
So puld me head-long down,
|
oh woe is me.
|
My deer friends are decay'd,
|
which lov'd me best.
|
Never was harmelesse maid
|
so much distrest;
|
My Father he is dead,
|
My Mother banished
|
All joyes are from me fled
|
Heaven comfort me.
|
How wel are they at ease.
|
and sweetly blest,
|
That may goe when they please
|
and when they list,
|
To see their Parents kind,
|
As nature doth them bind,
|
Such joyes I cannot finde.
|
Ah woe is me.
|
All earthly helps are gone,
|
I wil and must
|
Onely in God alone
|
Put my whole trust.
|
O blessed Trinity,
|
One God and persons three,
|
Release my misery.
|
and comfort me.
|
No creature on the earth,
|
can ease my griefe,
|
Until such time as death
|
yeeld me releife.
|
A coffin and a grave,
|
Is that which I would have.
|
Sweet Christ my soule receive
|
and succour me.
|
My Enemyes that bee
|
both great and smal,
|
Good Lord I pray to thee
|
forgive them all.
|
May England flourish brave,
|
When I am laid in grave,
|
So thus I take my leave
|
Christ calls for me.
|
I have in heaven above
|
a place prepared.
|
Never shal I remove
|
from thence afterward,
|
Go tole my passing-bell,
|
Whilst Angells ring my knell,
|
So vain world now farewel,
|
Christ sends for me.
|
When she these words had said
|
with chearful heart
|
The noble minded maid.
|
then did depart.
|
No doubt her soules at rest
|
With them whom God hath b[lest]
|
The last words she exprest
|
was, Christ calls for me.
|
|
|
|
|