The King's Last farewell to the World, OR THE Dead King's Living Meditations, at the approach of Death denounced against Him.  

THrough fear of sharp and bitter pain,  
by cutting off my days,  
No pleasure in my Crown I take,  
Nor in my royal rays.  
I shall descend with grieved heart,  
(for none my life can save)  
Unto the dismal gates of death,  
to moulder in the Grave.   

Farewell my Wife, and Children all,  
wipe off my brinish tears.  
I am deprived of my Throne,  
and from my future years.  
Farewell my people every one,  
for I no more shall see  
The wonders of the Lord on earth,  
nor with you shall I be.   

Mine eyes do fail, and to the earth  
to worms I must be hurled:  
Henceforth no more shall I behold  
the people of the world.  
My Crown and sceptre I must leave,  
my glory, and my Throne:  
Adieu my fellow Princes all,  
I from the earth am gone.   

Mine Age (which did approach to me)  
departed is away;  
And as a shepherd's tent removed,  
and I returned to clay;  
And as a Weaver doth cut off  
his thrum, even so my life,  
Must be cut off, from people and  
from Children, and from Wife.   

In sighs by day, and groans by night  
with bitterness I moan,  
And do consume away with grief,  
my end to think upon.  
Fear in the morning me assails,  
Death Lion-like I see,  
Even all the day (till night) to roar  
to make an end of me.   

I chattered as the schreeking Crane,  
or Swallow that doth fly:  
As Dove forlorn, in pensiveness,  
doth mourn, even so do I,  
I looked up to thee, O Lord,  
but now mine eyes do fail.  
Oh ease my sad oppressed soul,  
for death doth now prevail.   

What shall I say, to God's Decree,  
if he would speak, I then  
should live; it is a work for God,  
I find no help from men.  
Yet if my life prolonged was,  
my sins for to repent,  
Then softly I would go and mourn,  
Until my life was spent.   

And all my years, that I should live,  
for mine offences foul,  
I would pass o'er in bitterness,  
of my distressed soul.  
O Lord, thou hast discovered  
to me, that by these things  
Men live; Through thee, Princes do Reign,  
thou swayest over Kings.   

In all things here God's providence,  
and will alone commands,  
The life of my poor spirit sad,  
is only in his hands,  
Oh, that the Lord would me restore.  
my strength than I would give,  
To serve my God in humbleness  
whilst he would let me live.   

Behold, O Lord, when I in peace,  
did look to be restored,  
Then was my soul in bitterness,  
cast off, and I abhorred,  
Yet in the love of God most good,  
his righteousness most just  
Hath thrown me down into the pit,  
and to corrupted dust,   

Because that I have gone astray,  
and cherished war and strife,  
My days are now cut off, and I  
am quite bereft of life,  
Oh cast my sins behind thy back,  
good God, I humbly pray,  
And my offences with the blood  
of Christ wash clean away.   

When my dead body is interred,  
I cannot praise thee there,  
Death cannot celebrate the Lord,  
my God, most good, most dear;  
They that go down into the pit  
destructions them devour:  
For in thy truth they cannot hope,  
but perish by thy power.   

The living, Lord, the living, they  
shall praise thy holy name.  
With all the glorious host above,  
and I shall do the same,  
The father to his children here,  
that are of tender youth,  
Shall them forewarn, and unto them  
make known thy glorious truth.   

Forgive my sins, and save my soul  
O Lord, I thee entreat,  
And blot out mine offences all,  
for they are very great:  
Receive my soul for Christ his sake,  
my Prophet, Priest, and King,  
That I with Saints and angels may  
Eternal praises sing.   
FINIS.   

38 isaiah. Imprimatur T. J. Jan. 31. 1648   

LONDON Printed for Robert Ibbitson 1648.