〈…〉 pity, to all people that shall hear of it in 〈…〉 ●ull fire that happened on London-Bridge, the 11. 〈…〉 ●o the tune of, Aim not too high. IT grieves my heart to write such heavy news, As in my story afterward ensues; I would to God it never had been so, But 'tis too true, the Lord above doth know. O, here begins my heavy tale of woe, The which will force salt tears from eyes to flow, I think there cannot be a heart so hard, But to my subject will have some regard. O only London, then that art the flower, On which the Lord his blessing still doth shower; Alas I do lament the heavy loss, The which many a thousand pound hath cost. O London-bridge, that place of beauty fair, The world again the like cannot compare: What heavy fortune now there is befell, Alack, alas, it grieves me for to tell. How shall I write to give you all content? Nay, I must write that which will I cause lament, Unto a heart that is as hard as steel, Yet sure he needs must some compassion feel. On Monday night, the eleventh of February, A fire happened, of which none was wary; Happened, said I? alas, it is too true, As it is known, howsoever first it grew. Some say, 'twas through a Maiden's negligence, But that I'll leave for other to dispense, I would not speak more than what I do know, For fear that some offened th●●● 〈◊〉 But certain 'tis, there's many houses burned, The fire could not stented be, nor turned, Until it had consumed them every one, Third part the bridge from that place where't begun Hard by Saint Magnus, first it did begin, When as good folks their beds were sleeping in, Then some arising starting all with fear, Whenas they saw they were beset with fire. Some cried o●● fire fire, being afraid, Yet very few could do them any aid, They could not come to do them any good, Because the houses over water stood. Indeed the cries were grievous to be heard, The women were so wonderfully scared, The children shaking, to their friends did say, God Father and Mother, pray let's go away. Alas, poor souls, they well might be afraid. Being likely to be burned if they had stayed, The fire it did still increase so fast, That they much goods into the Thames did cast. I flamed aloft and fire did still increase, Use all the means they could, it would not cease, Until it had consumed both sides o'th' way, Near forty dwelling houses, as some say. You may imagine of the wondrous loss. Besides the money that the buildings cost, For surely those that on the bridge do dwell, Were men which did in riches much excel. The second part. To the same tune. AS I have read the Chronicle of Stowe, One thousand one hundred thirty six years ago The Bridge then being builded all of wood, Was burned every stick and stake as 't stood. And many people than was burned too, Because out of the fire they could not go, O Lord I wish the like may ne'er be known. As this prospect, for which all sigh and groan, At that same time was b●●● abundance more, The fire then the City ran half over, From London-stone to Aldgate, and to Paul's, It did consume goods, timber, work, and walls. Let me entreat both old and young to pray, For to defend's from such sudden decay, I think the veriest tyrannising heart, This same t'have seen, would make him feel some smart. Alas, my masters, say 'twere your ' own case, Or think yourselves had been in that same place, It would have put you in a dangerous fear, Besides still after, sorrow, griefs and care. O Lord, me thinks, I hear the cries and groans, That many of them made with heavy moans, O help, O help, they all aloud did cry, Whilst fire burned and flames aloft did fly. The Husband bade the Wife she should not fear, Although his eyes did shed full many a tear, Yet would he give her comfort in her was, But how to help themselves they did not know. 〈…〉 〈…〉 O ●oe 〈…〉 Lo think 〈…〉 Me think 〈…〉 To think 〈…〉 Alas, they 〈…〉 Being 〈…〉 'tis 〈…〉 Although 〈…〉 Le● 〈…〉 B●●● 〈…〉 〈…〉 You 〈…〉 Wh●● 〈…〉 Lhe● 〈…〉 To 〈…〉 〈…〉