The Life and Death of William Long beard the most famous and witty English Traitor, borne in the Citty of London. Accompanied with manye other most pleasant and prettie histories, By T. L. [i.e. Thomas Lodge] of Lincolns Inne, Gent |
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 | The Life and Death of William Long beard |  |
Songs
The First.
[That pitty Lord that earst thy hart inflamed]
That pitty Lord that earst thy hart inflamed
To enterteine a voluntarie death,
To ransome man by lothed sinnes defamed,
From hel, and those infernal paines beneath:
To enterteine a voluntarie death,
To ransome man by lothed sinnes defamed,
From hel, and those infernal paines beneath:
Vouchsafe, my God, those snares it may vnlose
Wherein this blinded world hath me intrapped:
That whilst I traffique in this world of woes,
My soule no more in lusts may be intrapped.
Wherein this blinded world hath me intrapped:
That whilst I traffique in this world of woes,
My soule no more in lusts may be intrapped.
Great are my faults, O me most wilfull witted:
But if each one were iust, there were no place
To shew thy power that sinnes might be remitted.
Let then O Lord thy mercy quite displace,
The lewd and endlesse sinnes I haue committed,
Trough thine vnspeakeable and endlesse grace.
But if each one were iust, there were no place
To shew thy power that sinnes might be remitted.
Let then O Lord thy mercy quite displace,
The lewd and endlesse sinnes I haue committed,
Trough thine vnspeakeable and endlesse grace.
The Second.
[Such darke obscured clouds at once incombred]
Such darke obscured clouds at once incombred
My mind, my hart, my thoughts from grace retired
With swarmes of sinnes that neuer may be numbred,
That hope of vertue quite in me expired.
My mind, my hart, my thoughts from grace retired
With swarmes of sinnes that neuer may be numbred,
That hope of vertue quite in me expired.
When as the Lord of hosts my gratious father,
Bent on my dulled powers his beames of brightnesse,
And my confused spirits in one did gather
Too long ensnard by vanitie and lightnesse.
Bent on my dulled powers his beames of brightnesse,
And my confused spirits in one did gather
Too long ensnard by vanitie and lightnesse.
A perfect zeale (not office of my sences)
So seazde my iudgement smothered in his misse,
That heauen I wisht and loathd this earthly gaile,
My hart disclaimd vile thoughts and vaine pretences.
And my desires were shut in seemely vaile,
So that I said, Lord, what a wolrd is this?
So seazde my iudgement smothered in his misse,
That heauen I wisht and loathd this earthly gaile,
My hart disclaimd vile thoughts and vaine pretences.
So that I said, Lord, what a wolrd is this?
The Third.
[A shop of shame, a gaine of liue-long griefe]
A shop of shame, a gaine of liue-long griefe,
A heauen for fooles, a hel to perfect wise,
A theater of blames where death is chiefe,
A golden cup where poison hidden lies.
A heauen for fooles, a hel to perfect wise,
A theater of blames where death is chiefe,
A golden cup where poison hidden lies.
A storme of woes without one calme of quiet,
A hiue that yeeldeth hemlock and no hony,
A boothe of sinne, a death to those that trie it,
A faire where cares are sold withouten mony.
A hiue that yeeldeth hemlock and no hony,
A boothe of sinne, a death to those that trie it,
A faire where cares are sold withouten mony.
A fleshlie ioy, a graue of rotten bones,
A spring of teares, a let of true delight,
A losse of time, a laborinth of mones,
A pleasing paine, a prison of the sprite,
Is this my life: why cease I then resolued
To pray with Paule and wish to be dissolued?
A spring of teares, a let of true delight,
A losse of time, a laborinth of mones,
A pleasing paine, a prison of the sprite,
Is this my life: why cease I then resolued
To pray with Paule and wish to be dissolued?
| The Life and Death of William Long beard | |