A lamentable Ditty composed upon the death of Robert Lord Devereux late Earl of Essex, who was beheaded in the Tower of London, upon Ash-wednesday in the morning. 1601.  
To the tune of Welladay.  
 

SWeet England's pride is gone  
welladay welladay,  
Which makes her sigh and groan  
evermore still:  
He did her fame advance,  
In Ireland Spain and France,  
And now by dismal chance,  
is from her ta'en.   

He was a virtuous Peer,  
welladay welladay,  
And was esteemed dear  
evermore still:  
He always helped the poor,  
Which makes them sigh full fore  
his death they do deplore,  
In every place.   

Brave honour graced him still  
gallantly gallantly,  
He near did deed of ill,  
well is it known:  
But envy that foul fiend  
Whose malice ne'er hath end;  
hath brought true virtues friend  
Unto his thrall.   

At Tilt he did surpass  
gallantly gallantly:  
all men that is and was  
evermore still:  
One day as it was seen,  
In honour of his Queen,  
Such deeds hath ne'er been seen,  
As he did do.   

Abroad and eke at home,  
gallantly, gallantly,  
For valour there was none,  
like him before:  
In Ireland France and Spain,  
(They feared great Essex name,  
And England loved the same,  
In every place.   

But all would not prevail  
welladay welladay:  
His deeds did nought avail,  
more was the pity:  
He was condemned to die,  
For treason certainly,  
But God that sits on high  
Knoweth all things.   

That Sunday in the morn,  
welladay welladay:  
That he to the City came,  
with all his troop:  
That first began the strife,  
And caused him lose his life,  
And others did the like,  
As well as he.   

Yet her Princely Majesty  
graciously, graciously,  
Hath pardon given free  
to many of them:  
She hath released them quite,  
And given them their right,  
they may pray both day & night  
God to defend her.   

Shrovetewesday in the night.  
welladay, welladay,  
With a heavy hearted sprite  
as it is said:  
The lieutenant of the Tower  
Who kept him in his power.  
At ten a clock that hour.  
To him did come.   

And said unto him there,  
mournfully, mournfully,  
My Lord you must prepare,  
to die to morrow:  
Gods will be done quoth he,  
Yet shall you strangely see,  
God strong in me to be,  
Though I am weak.   

I pray you pray for me  
well day, welladay,  
That God may strengthen me,  
against that hour:  
Then straightway did he call,  
The Guard under the wall,  
And did entreat them all  
For him to pray.   

For to morrow is the day  
welladay welladay,  
That I the debt must pay,  
which I do owe:  
It is my life I mean,  
Which I must pay my Queen,  
Even so hath justice given,  
That I must do.   

In the morning was he brought,  
welladay welladay:  
Whers a Scaffold was set up,  
within the Tower:  
Many Lords were present then,  
With other Gentlemen,  
Which were appointed then  
〈◊〉 see him die.   

You noble Lords quoth he  
welladay welladay,  
That must the witness be,  
of this my death:  
Know I never loved papistry,  
But did it still defy,  
And Essex thus did die,  
here in this place.   

I have a sinner been  
welladay welladay:  
Yet never wronged my Queen  
in all my life,  
My God I did offend,  
Which grieves me at my end,  
May all the rest amend,  
I do forgive them.   

To the state I ne'er meant ill  
welladay, welladay,  
Neither wished the commons ill  
in all my life:  
But loved all with my heart,  
And always took their part,  
Wh●ereas there was desert,  
In any place.   

Then mildly did he crave  
mournfully mournfully,  
He might that favour have  
private to pray:  
He than prayed heartily,  
And with great fervency,  
To God that sits on high,  
For to receive him.   

And then he prayed again  
mournfully mournfully,  
God to preserve his Queen  
from all her foes:  
And send her long to reign,  
True justice to maintain,  
And not to let proud Spain,  
Once to offend her.   

His gown he slipped off then  
welladay welladay,  
And put off his hat and band  
and hung it by.  
Praying still continually,  
To God that sits on high,  
That he might patiently,  
There suffer death.   

My headesman that must be,  
than said he cheerfully,  
Let him come here to me,  
That I may him see:  
Who kneeled to him then,  
Art thou (quoth he) the man,  
Which art appointed now,  
my life to free.   

Yes my Lord did he say  
well a day, welladay,  
Forgive me I you pray  
for this your death:  
I hear do therefore,  
And may true justice live,  
No foul crime to for give,  
Within their place.   

Then he kneeled down again,  
mournfully mournfully:  
And was required by some  
there standing by:  
To forgive his enemies,  
Before death closed his eyes,  
Which he did in hearty wise,  
Thanking them for it:   

That they would remember him  
welladay, welladay:  
That he might sorgive all them,  
that had him wronged:  
Now my Lords I take my leave  
Sweet Christ my soul receive,  
Now when you will I prepare,  
For I am ready.   

He laid his head on the block,  
welladay welladay:  
But his doublet did let the stroke  
some there did say:  
What must be done (quoth he)  
Shall be done presently,  
Then his doublet off put he,  
and lay down again.   

Then his headesman did his part  
cruelly, cruelly,  
He was never seen to start,  
For all the blows:  
His soul it is at rest.  
in heaven among the blessed,  
Where God send us to rest,  
When it shall please him.   
God save the King.  
FINIS.   

Imprinted at London for Margaret Allde, and are to be sold at the long shop under Saint Mildred's Church in the Poultry. 1603.