THE Lord russel's Last Farewell to the World.  
A SONG.  
 

FArewel, farewel to Mortal Powers,  
and fond Ambitious Fools;  
Now guiltless Blood requireth ours,  
from Providence that Rules.  
Farewell to Monmouth, Horned Grey,  
who are from Justice fled;  
And left me to this fatal Day,  
to lose my Plotting Head.   

II.  
Of all the Lords of our Cabals,  
I am the first that Dies  
Byth' hand of Justice, which foretells  
a Counter Sacrifice;  
That Blazing-Star at Stafford's Death,  
foretold a fatal Change:  
Now I declare, with my last breath,  
it is but just Revenge.   

III.  
Farewell to our late Parliaments,  
which made Three Kingdoms shake;  
Our Lawless Votes (my Soul torments)  
was for Rebellions sake:  
Th'Exclusive Bill I did promote  
with vigour, spleen, and power;  
Thereby to cut a Monarch's Throat,  
that caused this Bleeding Hour.   

IV.  
The best of Kings I sought to Kill,  
and drawed in Thousands more:  
Who neither wanted Wealth nor Will,  
and Traitors long before:  
Besides the Peasants and the poor,  
for Insurrection bend;  
To lay the Kingdom all in gore,  
to please a Parliament.   

V.  
We neither feared Law nor Right,  
Prerogative nor Fate;  
Impeached Queen and Duke for spite,  
to make the King afraid:  
We thought he durst not call to count  
our great Conspiring Heads;  
But now like me they all must mount,  
and fall into the Shades.   

VI  
If we had Hanged Tony and Tom,  
when first the Plot begun;  
Then I to this had never come,  
nor James from Justice run:  
Denying of the Plot's in vain,  
since Essex cut's own Throat;  
Both Rouse and Walcot owns the same,  
and all the rest must do't.   

VII.  
For my Confession I commit  
tothth' Groaning-Board's Divine;  
'Tis his desire to Word it fit,  
I hope for no Design;  
If Whiggish Cant, he puts upon't,  
with 'quivocating Shamms;  
Then score him up, on our account,  
his Libel to the Flames.   
Finis.   

Printed for J. Dean, Bookseller in Cranborn-Street, in Leicester-Fields, near Newport-House, 1683.