The cry of the poor for the death of the Right Honourable Earl of Huntingdon.  
To the tune of the Earl of Bedford.  
 

O God of thy mercy remember the poor,  
And grant us thy blessings thy plenty & store:  
For dead is Lord hastings, the more is our grief,  
And now up to heaven we cry for relief.  
Then wail we, then weep we, then mourn we each one.  
The good Earl of Huntingdon from us is gone.   

To poor and to needy, to high and to low,  
Lord hastings was friendly, all people doth know:  
His gates were still open the stranger to feed,  
And comfort the succourless always in need.  
Then wail we, etc.   

The husbandless Widow he ever did cherish,  
And Fatherless Infants he likewise would nourish:  
To weak and to sick▪ to lame and to blind,  
Our good Earl of Huntingdon ever was kind.  
Then wail we, etc.   

The naked he clothed with garments from cold,  
And frankly bestowed his silver and gold:  
His purse was still open in giving the poor,  
That always came flocking to Huntington's door.  
Then wail we, etc.   

His tenants that daily repaired to his house,  
Was fed with his bacon, his beef and his sauce:  
Their rents were not raised, their fines were but small  
And many poor Tenants paid nothing at all.  
Then wail we, etc.   

Such Landlords in England we seldom shall find,  
That to their poor Tenants will bear the like mind,  
Lord hastings therefore is joyfully crowned,  
With Angels in heaven where peace doth abound.  
Then wail we, etc.   

His wisdom so pleased the Queen of this land,  
The sword of true justice, she put in his hand:  
Of York he was Precedent, made by her Grace,  
Her laws to maintain and rule in her place.  
Then wail we, etc.   

Such merciful pity remained in his breast,  
That all men had justice, and none were oppressed:  
His Office in virtue, so Godly he spent,  
That Prince and his country, his loss may lament.  
Then wail we, etc.   

And likewise Lord Hastings S. George's true Knight,  
Did wear the gold garter of England so bright:  
The gift of a Prince, King Edward first gave,  
A Gem for a Soldier and Counsellor grave.  
Then wail we, etc.   

His coin was not whorded, to flourish in pride,  
His Kings and his jewels, and Chains to provide:  
But gave it to Soldiers, wounded in wars,  
That pike and the bullet, hath lamed with fearres.  
Then wail we, etc.   

He built up no Palace, nor purchased no Town,  
But gave it to Scholars to get him renown:  
As Oxford and Cambridge can rightly declare,  
How many poor Scholars maintained are there.  
Then wail we, etc.   

No groves he enclosed, nor felled no woods.  
No pastures he paled to do himself good:  
To Commons and Country, he lived a good friend,  
And gave to the needy what God did him send.  
Then wail we, etc.   

He likewise provided in time of great need:  
If England were forced with wars to proceed:  
Both men and munition, with horses of war,  
The proud foes of England, at all times to scar.  
Then wail we, etc.   

Our Queen and our Country, hath cause to complain,  
That death in his fury this Noble hath stain:  
Yet England rejoice we, rejoice without fear,  
Lord hastings hath left a most Noble heir.  
Then wail we, etc.   

A thousand poor Widows for Huntington's sake,  
As many poor children, their prayers will make:  
That God may long prosper his heir left behind,  
And grant him old Huntington's true noble mind.  
Then wail we, etc.   

Then pray we for Country, for Prince and for Pears,  
That God may indew them with most happy years:  
Lord bless us with virtue, with plenty and peace,  
And many more subjects like him to increase.  
Then wail we, then weep we, then mourn we each one,  
Our good Earl of Huntingdon from us is gone.   
FINIS.   

Printed at London for William Blackwall, and are to be sold at his shop near Guildhall gate. 1596.