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<DATE>2008-09-05</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>John Pas</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
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<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B080827.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B02868">
<STC T="W">D2958A</STC>
<BIBNO T="oclc">47012412</BIBNO>
<VID>174380</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="ballad">
<PB REF="1"><!-- PDF PAGE 12 -->
<HEAD>Dying Tears. OR, <HI>Englands</HI> Joy turned to mourning, for the lo&s;s of that Vertuous Prince, <HI>Henry</HI> Duke of <HI>Gloce&s;ter,</HI> 3d. Son to our late Soveraign King <HI>Charles</HI> the fir&s;t: Who departed this life the 13. of <HI>September,</HI> in the Year of our Lord, 1660.</HEAD>
<ARGUMENT>
<L>Prepare for death before you dye,</L>
<L>If you would live eternally.</L>
</ARGUMENT>
<OPENER>To the Tune of, <HI>Aim not too high.</HI></OPENER>
<P><FIGURE>
</FIGURE></P>
<P><FIGURE>
</FIGURE></P>
<DIV2 N="1" TYPE="part">
<LG>
<L>C<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="pdcc" EXTENT="1 letter"> <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="pdcc" EXTENT="1 letter">re the wonders that our God hath done,</L>
<L>Great are the mercies which to us are &s;hown</L>
<L>Yet we forget to &s;ay that God is ju&s;t,</L>
<L>Even though he turn the living into du&s;t.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Now learn, O England, learn for to lament</L>
<L>His death; who from us hath been long ab&s;ent;</L>
<L>And at the la&s;t is come on <HI>Engli&s;h</HI> Shore</L>
<L>To lay his Corps; who&s;e death we now deplore.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Ju&s;t in the prime and blooming of His age,</L>
<L>Dear <HI>Glo&s;ter</HI>'s ravi&s;hed from this mortall Stage:</L>
<L>Yet though his body can no more revive,</L>
<L>Pet his rare Vertues &s;eem to be alive.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Scarce had fair <HI>England</HI> bidden welcome home</L>
<L>This our mo&s;t vertuous Prince, but death doth come;</L>
<L>Scarce had his weary body taken re&s;t,</L>
<L>Behold grim death doth come and takes his breath.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>How can fair <HI>England</HI> weep enough and mourn,</L>
<L>His comely Corps we can't enough adorn:</L>
<L>O death, our hopes, our Trea&s;ure, in an hour</L>
<L>Ha&s;t thou di&s;per&s;'d, which makes &s;alt tears to &s;howr</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>O envious death! how dar'&s;t thou in his prime,</L>
<L>To cut down him, in whom all vertues &s;hine:</L>
<L>Therefore wee'l &s;eek his vertues for to blaze,</L>
<L>Upon his Tomb we will &s;et forth his prai&s;e.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>No &s;ooner in his vertues we did tru&s;t,</L>
<L>But pre&s;ently this Prince is turnd to du&s;t:</L>
<L>O then what cour&s;e of lives would Mortalls take,</L>
<L>Seeing that Princes cannot death for&s;ake.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Great Emperours and Kings lye at the &s;take,</L>
<L>To day they live, to morrow their graves they make</L>
<L>Death is a debt we owe, which we mu&s;t pay:</L>
<L>When death doth call, poor mortalls mu&s;t they.</L>
</LG>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 N="2" TYPE="part">
<HEAD>The Second Part</HEAD>
<OPENER>to the &s;ame Tune,</OPENER>
<P><FIGURE>
</FIGURE></P>
<P><FIGURE>
</FIGURE></P>
<LG>
<L>O That loud man, would but view o're his says,</L>
<L>And &s;eriou&s;ly con&s;ider his own wayes:</L>
<L>Now that all things below are vanity,</L>
<L>But &s;ouls Redeemer 'tis that lives on high.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The God of Love pour forth his mercies great</L>
<L>On our Dread Soveraign, even from his mercy &s;eat;</L>
<L>O give him grace and wi&s;edome to con&s;ider</L>
<L>That where his Brother's gone, he mu&s;t go thither.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>For Kings and Princes are but a &s;pan,</L>
<L>When death both come with's grimly dart in hand</L>
<L>To give the &s;troak: whil&s;t nature bios adieu</L>
<L>To all its plea&s;ures, and it's Comfort too.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>O that our God would pour his &s;pirit upon</L>
<L>Our King and Prince, that they may both live long;</L>
<L>O let them know 'tis not the arm of fle&s;h</L>
<L>That's able to with&s;tand Deaths powerfull cru&s;h.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>'Tis not mans honour nor his powerfull hand,</L>
<L>Nor his Riches that are at his command,</L>
<L>Neither his friend at all can him deliver</L>
<L>From death's &s;ad &s;troke, which &s;trikes but once for ever.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>O learn with ble&s;&s;ed <HI>David</HI> for to prove</L>
<L>That Gods thy portion and thy only love;</L>
<L>Then death &s;hall not affright thee, nor the grave;</L>
<L>But this &s;hall thee rejoyce, thy &s;oul to &s;ave.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Death is no &s;ting, the grave cannot contain</L>
<L>The Righteous &s;oul that makes <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="pdcc" EXTENT="1 word"> his aim,</L>
<L>But wicked men when once la&s;s in the Men,</L>
<L>Their &s;ouls in torments ever after burn.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But this is not our <HI>Glo&s;ter</HI> Ca&s;e, for he</L>
<L>Was the true partern of Nobility:</L>
<L>Saint like he liv'd, and he the &s;ame did dye,</L>
<L>As &s;oon as dead to Heaven his &s;oul did fly.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>When <HI>France</HI> did harbour this out Noble P<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="pdcc" EXTENT="1 letter"></L>
<L>His Mother did endeavour to convince</L>
<L>Him to turn Papi&s;t; but with courage bold</L>
<L>He &s;aid his true Religion he would hold</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The learned Je&s;uite could not him deceive,</L>
<L>Their damned Doctrine he would not believer</L>
<L>Nor all the Learned men that <HI>France</HI> could yield</L>
<L>Could make this Chri&s;tian prince to quite the field.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But now he's dead! alas, where is he gone,</L>
<L>His Corps to du&s;t, his &s;oul to Heaven is come:</L>
<L>O then Rejoyce, O <HI>England,</HI> and be glad,</L>
<L>That God has carried him, then to good from had.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Concluding, now I end my mournfull Song.</L>
<L>Which to all men in <HI>England</HI> doth belong,</L>
<L>Prepare for death before before you dye,</L>
<L>If e're you mean to live eternally.</L>
</LG>
</DIV2>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P><HI>London,</HI> Printed for <HI>Charles Tyns</HI> on <HI>London</HI>-Bridge.</P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
</TEXT>
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