 | A royal arbor (1663) |  |
The Farewell.
1
Fair Fidelia leave me now,I may no more
Thy Deity adore,
Nor offer to thy shrine,
I serve one more divine,
And greater far then you;
Hark, the trumpets call away,
I must go,
Lest the foe
Lose the King and win the day.
Let's march bravely on,
Charge them in the Van,
Our Cause Gods is,
Though the ods is
Ten times ten to one.
2
Tempt no more, I may not yield,Although thy eyes
A Kingdom might surprize;
6
The high-born Prince of Wales
Is mounted in the Field,
Where the loyal Gentry flock,
Though forlorn,
Nobly born,
Of a near decaying stock,
Cornish boyes be bold,
Never lose your hold,
He that loiters,
Is by Traytors
Basely bought and sold.
3
One kiss more, and then farewell,Nay now give o're,
I prethee fool no more;
Why cloud'st thou so thy beams?
I see by these extreams
A woman's heaven or hell.
Pray the King may have his own,
That the Queen
May be seen
With her Babes on Englands Throne;
Rally up your men,
One shall vanquish ten:
Victory we
Come to try thy
Favour once agen.
| A royal arbor (1663) | |