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My hair is fallen from my head,
My flesh hath left its station,
I soon will mingle with the dead,
and leave this cruel nation.
My flesh hath left its station,
I soon will mingle with the dead,
and leave this cruel nation.
I seldom with my children walk,
but hears some piercing story,
And oft times mingled with their talk,
their Papa's now in glory.
but hears some piercing story,
And oft times mingled with their talk,
their Papa's now in glory.
Your father's blood for vengeance cries,
France is in great confusion,
With glitt'ring words and cannon balls,
it will end with Desolation
France is in great confusion,
With glitt'ring words and cannon balls,
it will end with Desolation
Like Hamlet's Ghost I move along,
I scarce can see my shadow
In dreams I see my murdered Lord,
ascending Jacob's ladder
I scarce can see my shadow
In dreams I see my murdered Lord,
ascending Jacob's ladder
Farewel to lilies, crowns and gold,
and all this worldly pleasure.
For since to Heaven I hope to fly,
there lieth all my treasure;
and all this worldly pleasure.
For since to Heaven I hope to fly,
there lieth all my treasure;
But now observe that injur'd Queen,
who much deserves your pity,
Who many months in sorrow's been,
and thus I end my ditty
who much deserves your pity,
Who many months in sorrow's been,
and thus I end my ditty
FINIS.
Glasgow, Printed by J. & M. Robertson,
Saltmarket, 1800.