King CHARLES
His Speech, and last Farewell to the World,
made upon the Scaffold at White-hall-gate, on
Tuesday, January 30. 1648.
To the Tune of, Weladay.
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FAire Englands joy is fled,
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Weladay, weladay,
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Our Noble King is dead,
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Sweet Prince of love;
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This heavy news so bad,
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Hath made three Kingdoms sad,
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No comfort to be had,
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But from above,
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On Tuesday last his Grace.
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Chearfully, cherfully,
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Went to his dying place,
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to end all strife,
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Where many a weeping eye
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With groans unto the skie,
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To see his Majesty
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there end his life.
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His Foes he did forgive,
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Graciously, graciously,
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And wisht we all might live
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in quiet peace.
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He wisht whatere was past,
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That he might be the last,
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No sorrow we might taste,
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but wars might cease.
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Theres nothing griev'd him so,
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Weladay, weladay,
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As when he thought that woe
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might light on all.
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The tears stood in his eyes
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To heare the people's cries,
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And think what miscarries
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on us should fall.
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Upon the Scaffold then,
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Weladay, weladay,
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In hearing of all men
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this he made knowne,
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That Hee was innocent
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of all the blood was spent,
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He strove with Parliament
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but for his owne.
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Quoth he, themselves confest,
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Weladay, weladay,
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And thus much have exprest
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in mine own hearing,
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The Militia in mine hand
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was granted by the land
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To be at my command,
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none with me sharing.
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The keeping of the same,
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Weladay, welady,
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I know not who to blame,
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they did desire.
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Which made us disagree,
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The fault's now laid on me,
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This all the world may see
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set all on fire.
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