THE Hangman's Lamentation; OR, THE Chancellour's Farewell.  

HAve at the Blind Harper's, for once let us try,  
To Sing a Poor Chancellor's Sad Destiny,  
Bewailed by Three Kingdoms, without one wet Eye.  
Then Farewell Jeff— s, Old Boy Jeff— s,  
Ever and ever Farewell.   

With Popery and Slavery, he Thrived Cock-a-hoop;  
But when Right, Law, and Gospel, began to Look Up,  
He got a Consumption, and died of a Droop.  
Then Farewell, etc.   

To Die neither Satan, nor Belzebub's Debtors;  
Some say he's but gone to Visit his Betters;  
And to take up a Lodging for Old Father Letre's.  
Then Farewell, etc.   

Yes, the Chancellour's Dead▪ and would ye know why?  
His Boys in the West, like Goblins stood by;  
And with Bloody Pitch-forks, killed him Dead in the Eye.  
Then Farewell, etc.   

The Ghosts of his Martyrs, they made such a Stir there,  
That Great Russel's Ghost, and Cornish's Murder,  
Even frighted his Soul, to the Devil and further.  
Then Farewell, etc.   

The sad Thought of Hemp, pierced him thoro' and thoro',  
And to tell you the Truth, in mere Grief and Sorrow;  
He even Died to Day, to save Hanging to Morrow.  
Then Farewell, etc.   

This Hector that once could Roar, Swagger, and Bristle,  
Our great Son of Thunder's, gone out like a Fizle;  
And bids both the Sheriffs, and Hangman go Whistle,  
Then Farewell, etc.   

But to march off so sneaking, in troth was fowl play,  
For his good Friends of Holbourn, as all People say,  
Complain he has lost them a whole Holiday.  
Then Farewell Jeff— s, Old Boy Jeff— s,  
Ever and ever Farewell.    

LONDON, Printed in the Year, 1689.