%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> ENGLANDS Lamentation / FOR THE / Duke of Monmouth's Departure: / Reflecting on his Heroick Actions. F., J. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1679-1679 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 05/08/2012 32249

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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

R32950 IS Monmouth banish't? must HE not stay here? / Can he, Eclips'd, so quickly disappear? Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 134456 ENGLANDS Lamentation / FOR THE / Duke of Monmouth's Departure: / Reflecting on his Heroick Actions. ENGLANDS Lamentation FOR THE Duke of Monmouth's Departure: Reflecting on his Heroick Actions. ENGLAND'S Lamentation FOR THE Duke of Monmouth's Departure: Reflecting on his Heroic Actions. F., J. 1679-1679

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<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">ENGLANDS Lamentation</hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">FOR THE</hi></seg> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Duke of Monmouths Departure:</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">Reflecting on his Heroick Actions.</hi></seg>
IS Monmouth banisht? must HE not stay here? Can he, Eclipsd, so quickly disappear? Methinks we sink, and our disjoynted State, Rowles headlong down the Precipice of Fate: Our Anchors weighd, and this great Island-Boat, Like the famd Delos, on the Sea does float, A Sea whose Waves bear a far redder hue, Than those which Pharohs mighty Host or-threw; In which each Papist like a Rock dos sit, Ready to split us, when we dash on it. That Kings unsafe, who sits upon a Throne, Whose strongest Pillars lost, and leans, alone, On the weak shoulders of a yielding Crew, Who never yet a greater Burthen knew, Than their own flesh, which they could scarcely save From falling in the Dirt, before the Grave. That King art thou, great Charles, now Monmouths gone, Monmouth was truly Loyal to thy Throne, Woud Atlas-like, with his strong Shoulders bear The Weight of our declining Hemisphere: Who, maugre all Shocks of mighty Foes, Stood fixt, nor valud all the Threatning Blows. He, whom the Scots next to their God and Thee, Feard, and Adord, like a new Deity. He, who so lately quelld the numrous croud Of fresh spawnd Rebels, that Proclaimd aloud, War gainst the Government, nor could they fear, Till within Scotland Monmouth did appear; Whose very Sight shot Death among them all, More seemd with Fear than by the Sword to fall. This is the least our Glorious DUKE hath done, France lovd that Valour once which Maestricht won, With which, like the Pellaean Conquerour, Himself his Standard on the Rampiers bore, Whilst the amazed French stood idly by, Deserving not to share the Victory. Alexander.
They Wondred then, and since as much have feard, When He at Mons so Terrible appeard, Like Mars, all or with Blood and Dust besmeard, When He, like the Great Trojan Hector fought, And wheresoer he came, such Wonders wrought, That as of old, now Jove, with Scales in hand, Weighing each Fate, did on Olympus stand, And found the English, though in number less, In Valour equal, could not chuse but bless Th Attempt: whilst smiling, he might see from far, The Bloody labours of the God of War: Till Luxemburgh was forcet his Ground to quit, And Victory, which on a Hill did sit, Doubtful to which she might her Favor shew, Now clapt her Wings, and to the English Flew, The English who deservd her best, and knew, Best by their Valour always to maintain, That which their Valour nobly did obtain. Thus the brave DUKE provd English Spirits are, In Fight, as daring now as ere they were. And thus he got himself Renown, to be, For that sent hence, as the States Enemy. Sure, Poysonous Envy did their Breasts invade, Who did your Majesty to THIS perswade; You were abused when you banish[]t thus, Him, the Delight of Your Self and us. They knew, whilst he did in your Bosom lye, Their Daggers could not reach Your Majesty: Therefore t effect their Villanous Intent, He, who alone could their dire Acts prevent, Must be removd, that so your Breast might be, More open to each daring Enemy. Know then, Great Charles, Thou art more hurt than He, For th Wise and Valiant ner can Exild be.
J.F. LONDON, Printed in the Year, 1679.