together with a welcome for King James
published London, 1603
~
Farewell, farewell, farewell,
Gone is thy friend
that kept thee from annoy.
Lament, lament, lament
~
you English Peeres,
Lament your losse
possest so many yeeres.
Gone is thy Queene, the
paragon of time,
On whom grim death
hath spred his fatall line.
Lament, lament, lament
~
Gone is that gem which
God and man did love,
She hath us left
to dwell in heaven above.
Lament, lament, lament
~
You gallant Ladies
of her Princely traine,
Lament your losse
your love, your hope, and gaine.
Lament, lament, lament
~
Weepe wring your hands,
all clad in mourning weeds,
Shew foorth your love,
in tongue in hart and deeds.
Lament, lament, lament
~
Full foure and fortie yeeres
foure moneths seaven dayes,
She did maintaine this realme
in peace alwayes.
Lament, lament, lament
~
In spite of Spaines proud Pope,
and all the rout,
Who Lyon like ran
ranging round about.
Lament, lament, lament
~
With traiterous plots to slay
her Royall grace,
Her realme, her lawes
and Gospell to deface,
Lament, lament, lament
~
Yet time and tide God still
was her defence,
Till for himselfe from us
hee tooke her hence
Lament, lament, lament
~
We neede not to rehearse
what care what griefe,
She still endured,
and all for our reliefe.
Lament, lament, lament
~
We neede not to rehearse
what benefits,
You all injoyd, what pleasures
and what gifts.
Lament, lament, lament
~
You Virgins all bewayle
your Virgin Queene,
That Phenix rare,
on earth but sildome seene.
Lament, lament, lament
~
With Angels wings she pearst
the starrie skie,
When death, grim death,
hath shut her mortall eye.
Lament, lament, lament
~
You Nimphs that sing and bathe,
in Fountaines cleere:
Come lend your helpe to sing
in mournefull cheere.
Lament, lament, lament
~
All you that doe professe
sweet musicks Art,
Lay all aside, your Vyoll
Lute and Harpe,
Lament, lament, lament
~
Mourne Organs, Flutes,
mourne Sagbuts with sad sound:
Mourne Trumpets shrill,
mourne Cornets mute & round.
Lament, lament, lament
~
You Poets all brave Shakspeare,
Johnson, Greene,
Bestow your time to write
for Englands Queene.
Lament, lament, lament
~
Returne your songs and Sonnets
and your sayes:
To set foorth sweete
Elizabeths praise.
Lament, lament, lament
~
In fine all you
that loyall harts possesse,
With Roses sweete,
bedeck hir Princely hearse.
Lament, lament, lament
~
Bedeck that hearse
sprong from that famous King,
King Henrie the eight,
whose fame on earth doth ring
Lament, lament, lament
~
Now is the time that we
must all forget,
Thy sacred name
oh sweet Elizabeth.
Lament, lament, lament
~
Praying for King James,
as earst we prayed for thee,
In all submissive love
and loyaltie.
Lament, lament, lament
~
Beseeching God to blesse
his Majestie
With earthly peace
and heavens felicitie.
Lament, lament, lament
~
And make his raigne
more prosperous here on earth
Then was the raigne
of late Elizabeth.
Lament, lament, lament
~
Wherefore all you
that subjects true beare names:
Still pray with me, and say
God save King James.
Lament, lament, lament,
you English Peeres,
Lament your losse enjoyd
so many yeeres.
