The Lamenting Ladies last Farewel to
the WORLD.
Who, being in a strange Exile, bewails her own misery, com-
plains upon Fortune and Destiny; describeth the manner of her
breeding, deplores the loss of her Parents, wishing peace and
happiness to England, which was her Native C[o]untrey, and
withal resolved for death, chearfully commending her Soul to
Heaven, and her body to the Earth, and quietly departed this
Life.
To an excellent Tune, called, O Hone, O Hone.
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MOurnful Melpomony
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assist my Quill,
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That I may pensively
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now make my Will;
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Guide thou my hand to write,
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And sences to indite,
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A Ladies last good-night,
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O pitty me.
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I that was Nobly Born,
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hither am sent,
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Like to a Wretch forlorn,
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here to lament,
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In this most strange Exile,
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Here to remain a while,
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Till heaven be pleas'd to smile,
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and send for me.
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My Friends cannot come nigh
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me in this place;
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Nor bear me company,
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such is my case:
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Poor I am left alone,
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But few regard my moan,
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All my Delights are gone;
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Heaven succour me.
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Each Day with cares and fears
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I am perplext,
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My Drink is brinish Tears,
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with sorrow mixt:
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When others soundly sleep,
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I sadly sob and weep,
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Opprest with Dangers deep,
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Lord comfort me.
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WHen England flourished,
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my Parents dear,
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Tenderly nourished
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me many a Year:
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I was advanc'd on high,
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In place of Dignity,
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In Golden Bravery
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they Decked me.
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My Garments deckt with Gold,
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richly approved,
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Never was English Girl
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better beloved;
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Old and young, great and small,
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Waited upon my call,
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I had the love of all
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that did know me.
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But from my former state
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I am call'd back,
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Through Destiny and Fate
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all goes to wrack;
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Fortune did lately frown,
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And caught me by the crown,
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So pull'd me headlong down,
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Oh! woe is me.
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My dear Friends are decay'd,
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which lov'd me best,
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Never was harmless Maid
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so much distrest;
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My Father he is dead,
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My Mother banished,
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All joys are from me fled,
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Heaven comfort me.
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How well are they at ease,
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and sweetly blest,
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That may go where they please,
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and where they list,
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To see their Parents kind,
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As Nature doth them bind,
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Such joys I cannot find,
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Oh! woe is me.
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All earthly helps are gone,
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I will and must
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Onely in God alone
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put my whole trust;
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O blessed Trinity,
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One God and Persons three,
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Release my misery,
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and comfort me.
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No creature on the Earth
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can ease my grief,
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Until such time as Death
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yield me relief:
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A Coffin and a Grave
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Is that which I would have,
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Sweet Christ my Soul receive.
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[and succour me.]
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My Enemies that be
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both great and small,
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Good Lord I pray to thee
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forgive them all:
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May England flourish brave,
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When I am laid in Grave,
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So thus I take my leave,
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Christ calls for me.
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I have in Heaven above,
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a place prepar'd,
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Never shall I depart
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from thence afterward:
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Go tole my Passing-Bell,
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Whilst Angels ring my Knell,
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So vain World now farewel,
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Christ sends for me.
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When she these words had spoke
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with cheerful heart,
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The noble-minded Maid
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then did depart:
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No doubt her Soul's at rest,
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With them whom God hath blest,
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The last words she exprest,
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was, Christ calls for me.
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