%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> Death's loud Allarum: / OR, / A perfect description of the frailty of Mans life, with / some admonitions to warne all men and Women / to repentance. Crimsal, Richard University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1634-1634 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 04/18/2011 30054

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

S108761 4 UNKNOWN UNKNOWN Aime not too high Fortune my Foe Aim Not Too High the same tune Fortune my Foe The Same Tune LAment your sinnes, good people all lament, / You plainely for the Messenger is sent, IT is our sinnes doth cause Gods wrath to fall, / For we offend ev'n generally all, Roxburghe Ballads Editor None None None None Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 78 1: 79 Death's loud Allarum: / OR, / A perfect description of the frailty of Mans life, with / some admonitions to warne all men and Women / to repentance. Death’s loud Allarum: OR, A perfect description of the frailty of Mans life, with some admonitions to warne all men and Women to repentance. Death’s loud Alarm: OR, A perfect description of the frailty of Man's life, with some admonitions to warn all men and Women to repentance. Crimsal, Richard 1634-1634 Iohn Wright the young

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious types & sects royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic The New World travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgarities/ crass humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 4/18/2011 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America death religious concepts Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 4/18/2011 11:48:05 AM XBallad Meyer, Shannon Created XML Version of Ballad 4/18/2011 11:48:05 AM Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/18/2011 11:48:05 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Zusky, Catherine Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/18/2011 11:48:05 AM Transcriptionist Two Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/18/2011 11:48:05 AM Transcriptionist One Fadel, Meghan Transcription of ballad manuscript 8/17/2010 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 7/3/2008 Bibliographer Giles Bergel Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 4/15/2011 Transcriber Fadel, Meghan Created Ballad XML 4/15/2011 Transcriber Meyer, Shannon Created Ballad XML 4/15/2011 Double-Key Transcription Merger Zusky, Catherine Created Ballad XML 4/15/2011 Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Created Ballad XML 4/15/2011 XBallad Doss, MacKenzie Created Ballad XML 4/13/2011 Transcriber Fadel, Meghan Created Ballad XML 4/13/2011 Transcriber Meyer, Shannon Created Ballad XML 4/13/2011 Double-Key Transcription Merger Zusky, Catherine Created Ballad XML 4/13/2011 Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Created Ballad XML 4/13/2011 XBallad Doss, MacKenzie Created Ballad XML 10/29/2008 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/13/2011 Checker Bethany Wong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 1/13/2011 Checker Bethany Wong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">Deaths loud Allarum:</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">OR,</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">A perfect description of the frailty of Mans life, with</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">some admonitions to warne all men and Women</hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">to repentance.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="6" rend="left"><hi rend="italic"><hi rend="bold">To the tune of, Aime not too high.</hi></hi></seg>
LAment your sinnes, good people all lament, You plainely see the Messenger is sent, I meane grim death and he doth play his part, He stands prepard to strike you to the heart: How suddenly alas theres none doth know, We all must yeeld to Death this death we owe. Our time is short we have not long to stay, We are not sure to live one night nor day, No, nor one houre or minut which is lesse, As God doth please our time is more or lesse: We are all mortall that live here below, And all must dye, that is the debt we owe. No strength nor valour can this death prevent, Nor can faire beauty hinder his intent, Both rich and poore must all prepare to dye, No King nor Subject can proud death denye: Death feares no friend nor doth he dread a foe, We all must dye that is the debt we owe. Behold and see all you that smile at death, You plainely see how fickle is your breath, To day alive, to morrow clad in clay, Therefore prepare, repent, weep, fast and pray: Our sinnes doe cause the Lord to send us woe, We all must die, that is the debt we owe.
Thy brothers dead and buryed in the ground, Prepare thy self, the mournfull Bell doth sound, The grave stands open ready to receive, Whom death doth strike, prepare to take thy leave. The day nor houre there is none that doth know, We all must die, that is the debt we owe. Then why doe we so vainely spend our time, And unto wickednesse so much incline? We live as though we never meant to die, Spending our dayes most lewd and wantonly: All wickednesse doth daily in us grow, Yet all must die, that is the debt we owe. In pride and lust we daily doe abound, What wicked sinnes but in us may be found? Wrath and revenge, with beastly gluttony, With drunkennesse deceit and flattery: All this appeares apparantly in show. Yet all must die, that is the debt we owe. The hearts of men are growne as hard as stone, Theyl not give care unto the griefe and mone, Which their poore brethren make being opprest, Take heed hard heart, for death will thee arrest: And then tis doubtfull will begin thy woe, For all must die, that is the debt we owe.
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The second part, To the same tune.</hi></seg>
IT is our sinnes doth cause Gods wrath to fall, For we offend evn generally all, Both rich and poore with yong and old also: Let us repent, least God increase our woe. If we repent the Lord will mercy show, We all must die, that is the debt we owe. Some seeme to murmur and to make complaint, But they are those whose faith is weake and faint, They doe not truly feare nor serve the Lord, Nor doe they note his blessed holy Word, Upon repentance he will mercy show: But all must die, that is the debt we owe. Gods mercy goes before his justice still, Hes alwayes sure to punish us for ill, He lets us scape in hope we may amend, Thus hes to us a father and a friend: But we to him ungracelesse children grow, Yet all must die, that is the debt we owe. What can a father doe more for a sonne, Then our good Father and our God hath done? He made us from the brittle earth and clay, And gave us breath, yet him we disobay: O wretched creatures why should we doe so, We all must die, that is the debt we owe. Over all creatures man a ruler is, Hath not the Lord done much in doing this? O thinke on this and praise him for the same, Give land and glory to his holy name, All men thats living ought for to doe so, We all must die, that is the debt we owe. But we forget our duties to our God, Wherefore he now doth scourge us with his rod, His punishment we now are like to feele, He shoots his Arrowes from his Bow of steele: Which Bow doth seeme to strike a deadly blow, We all must die, that is the debt we owe.
What father alwayes will forgive his child, That disobays his will and is most vild? Correction doth befit a wicked son, Tis true we must confesse the same each one: Now God corrects us by one blow, In hope thereby, that we will better grow. Then lets amend our lives most speedily, We may live long or suddenly may die, Let us prepare our selves for to repent, It cannot long be ere our glasse be spent: Our time is short, for certaine it is so, We all must die, that is the debt we owe. Happys that man that is for death prepard, Although he die heaven is his reward, He lives to die, and dies to live againe, In joyes eternally for to remaine: Thrice blesseds he that lives and dieth so, We all must die, that is the debt we owe. Then seeing all must die as that we must, While we live here, in God lets put our trust, Then we shall die to live with him in joy, And happinesse which never will decay: Let all true Christians wish it may be so, For all must die, that is the debt we owe. Looke not upon thy pleasures and thy pride, But for thy silly soule doe thou provide, Minde not this world tis vaine and transitory, Minde heaven on high which is a place of glory Unto which place Lord grant that we may goe, When we doe die: Amen, let all say so.
FINIS. R. Printed at London for John Wright the Young and are to be sold at his shop at the upper end of the Old-Bayley.