%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The Brides Buriall. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1601-1601 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 04/18/2011 30586

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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

S117357 1 the Ladies Fall In Peascod Time The Lady's Fall COme mourn, come mourn with me / you loyall lovers all, Roxburghe Ballads Editor None None None None Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 59 The Brides Buriall. The Brides Buriall. The Bride's Burial. 1601-1601 H. G[o]sson

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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 marriage mythology/ Classical Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 4/18/2011 11:29:16 AM XBallad Meyer, Shannon Created XML Version of Ballad 4/18/2011 11:29:16 AM Transcription Supervisor McAbee, Kristina, Nebeker, Eric Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/18/2011 11:29:16 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Zusky, Catherine Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/18/2011 11:29:16 AM Transcriptionist Two Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 4/18/2011 11:29:16 AM Transcriptionist One Fadel, Meghan Transcription of ballad manuscript 8/9/2010 Checker Shannon Meyer Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 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 Bibliographer Shannon Meyer Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 1/13/2011 Checker Bethany Wong Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="bold"><hi rend="italic">T</hi></hi><hi rend="italic">he Brides Buriall. To the tune of the Ladies fall.</hi></seg>
COme mourn, come mourn with me you loyall lovers all, Lament my losse in weedes of woe, whom griping griefe doth thrall, Like to the dropping vine, cut downe by gardners knife, Even so my heart with sorrow staine, doth bleed for my sweet wife. By Death (that grisly Ghost) my turtle Dove is slaine: And I am lost unhappy man, to spend my daies in paine: Her beauty late so bright, like Roses in their prime, Is wasted like the mountaines snow, by force of Phoebus shine. Her faire red coloured lips, now pale and wan, her eyes That late did shine like christall stars, alas her light it dies: Her pretty lilly hands, with fingers long and small, In colour lie like earthly clay, yea cold and stiffe withall. When as the morning gray, her golden gate had spred, And that the glistring sunne arose, forth from faire Thetis bed: Then did my love awake, most like a lilly flower, And as the lovely Queene of heaven, so shind she in her bower. Attired she was then, like Flora in her pride, As faire as brave Dianaes Nimphs, so lookt my lovely Bride, And as faire Hellens face, gave Grecian Dames the lurch, So did my deare exceed in sight, all Virgins in the Church.
When we had knit the knot, of holy wedlocks band: Like Alabaster joynd to jett, so stood we hand in hand: Then loe a chilling cold, struk every vitall part; And griping griefe like pangs of death, seazd on my true Loves heart. Downe in a sound she fell, as cold as any stone: Like Venus picture lacking life, so was my Love brought home. At length arose a red, throughout her comely face, As Phoebus beames with watry clouds ore covered her face. Then with a grievous groane, and voyce most hoarse and dry, Farewell quoth shee my loving friends, for I this day must die. The messenger of God, with golden Trumpe I see: With many other Angels more, doth sound and call for me. In stead of musicke sweet, goe tole my passing bell: And with these flowers strow my grave that in my chamber smell: Strip off my Brides array, my Corke-shooes from my feet, And gentle mother be not coy, to bring my winding sheet. My Wedding dinner drest, bestow upon the poore: And on the hungry needy maind, that craveth at the doore. In stead of Virgins young, my Bride-bed for to see, Goe cause some cunning Carpente[r] to make a chest for mee.
My Bride laces of silke, bestowd on maidens meete, May fitly serve when I am dead, to tie my hands and feete: And thou my Lover true, my husband and my friend, Let me intreate thee here to stay, untill my life doth end. Now leave to talke of love, and humbly on your knee: Direct your prayer unto God, but mourne no more for me. In love as we have lived, in love let us depart: And I in token of my love, doe kisse thee with my heart. O stench thy bootlesse teares, thy weeping is in vaine: I am not lost, for we in heaven, shall one day meet againe. With that she turnd her head, as one disposd to sleepe, And like a Lambe departed life: while friends full sore did weepe. Her true Love seeing this, did fetch a grievous groane, As though his heart did burst in two, and thus he made his moane: O dismall heavy day, a day of griefe and care, That hath bereft the Sun so high, whose beames refresht the ayre. Now woe unto the world, and all that therein dwell, O that I were with her in heaven, for here I live in hell: And now this Lover lives, a discontented life: Whose Bride was brought unto th[e] gra[ve] a Maiden and a Wife. A garland fresh and faire, of Lillies there was made, In signe of her Virginity, and on her Coffin laid: Sixe maidens all in white, did beare her to the ground, The Bells did ring in solemne sort, and made a solemne sound. In earth they laid her then, for hungry wormes a prey: So shall the fairest face alive, at length be brought to clay.
FINIS. London Printed for H. Gosson.