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ANNE WALLEN'S LAMENTATION
7 Tis not to dye that thus doth cause me grieue, I am more willing far to die then Hue;
But tis for blood which mounteth to the skies, And to the Lord reuenge, reuenge, it cries.
8 My dearest husband did I wound to death, And was the cause he lost his sweetest breath, But yet I trust his soule in heauen doth dwell, And mine without Gods mercy sinkes to hell.
9 In London neere to smithfield did I dwell, And mongst my neighbours was beloued well: Till that the Deuill wrought me this same spight, That all their loues are turnd to hatred quight.
io Iohn Walien was my louing husbands name, Which long hath liu'd in London in good fame. His trade a Turner, as was knowne full well, My name An W'alien, dolefull tale to tell.
To the tune of Fortune my foe.
ii IV /!" Y husband hauing beene about the towne, 1VJL And comming home, he on his bed lay down: To rest himselfe, which when I did espie, I fell to rayling most outragiously.
12 I cald him Rogue, and slaue, and all to naught, Repeating the worst language might be thought Thou drunken knaue I said, and arrant sot, Thy minde is set on nothing but the pot.