A godly song, entituled, A farewell to the vvorld, made by a godly Christian, named Thomas Byll, being the parish clerke of West-Felton, as he lay vpon his death-bed shewing the vanitie of the world, and his desire to be dissolued. To the tune of, Fortune my foe Byll, Thomas. 1630 Approx. 8 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2007-01 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A17422 STC 4241 ESTC S118574 99853781 99853781 19177 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A17422) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 19177) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 1091:14) A godly song, entituled, A farewell to the vvorld, made by a godly Christian, named Thomas Byll, being the parish clerke of West-Felton, as he lay vpon his death-bed shewing the vanitie of the world, and his desire to be dissolued. To the tune of, Fortune my foe Byll, Thomas. 1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill. printed [by A. Mathewes] for Henry Gossen, London : [1630?] Printer's name and suggested publication date from STC. In two parts, each with woodcuts at head; part 2 has caption: The soules petition at heauen gate; or, The second part of the clerke of West-Felton, being Thomas Byll. Verse - "Behold O Lord a sinner in distresse,". Reproductions of the original in the British Library. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. 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Death songs -- Early works to 1800. 2006-01 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2006-01 Aptara Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2006-06 Jonathan Blaney Sampled and proofread 2006-06 Jonathan Blaney Text and markup reviewed and edited 2006-09 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion A Godly Song , entituled , A farewell to the VVorld , made by a Godly Christian , named Thomas Byll , being the Parish Clerke of West-Felton , as he lay vpon his Death-bed , shewing the vanitie of the World , and his desire to be dissolued . To the Tune of , Fortune my Foe . BEhold O Lord a Sinner in distresse , Whose heart is vext with inward heauinesse ; Remit my sinnes my God , and mercie showe , For here I liue in griefe , perplext with woe , All flesh is frayle , and brittle like to glasse , Mans life like fading Flowers away doth passe , My time is come that I from hence must goe , Then for sweet Iesus sake Lord mercy showe . The day and houre is come that I must dye , I trust my Souls shall strait ascend the skye , Where Saints and Angells euer doe reioyce , Giuing him praises due with heart and voice . Oh sinfull Man deferre not thou the time . Up Iacobs Ladder Father let me clime , Where as thy Angells vp and down descend , Betwixt my Soule and Bodie at my end . I must not die neuer to rise againe , But I must die for to be fréed from paine ; My Sauiour by his death hath bought my life , To raigne with him when finisht is this strife . My earthly Spirits fayle , my time is run , My face is wan , thy Messenger is come , A welcome Guest that welcome is to mee , To heave me hence vnto felicitie . My Sun is sette , I haue not long to stay , But ere the morning I shall see a day That shall outshine the splendor of the Sun , When to the holy Trinity I come . Me thinks I ( casting vp my dying eyes ) Behold the Lord in glory on the skies , With all his heauenly Angells in that place , Smiling with ioy to sée his chéerefull face . Both King and Kesar euery one must die , The stoutest heart the sting of death must trie , The Rich , the Poore , the Aged , and the Babe , When Sickle comes each flower then doth fade . Then World farewell , I sée all is but vaine , From dust I came , to dust I must againe , No humane pompe our life from death can stay . When time is come we must forthwith away . For worldlie pleasure is but vanitie , None can redéeme this life from death I sée , Nor Cresus wealth , nor Alexanders fame , Nor Sampsons strength that could deaths fury tame Our Father Adam he for sin did fall , Which brought destruction present on us all ▪ But heauenly Father thou thy Sonne 〈◊〉 send , Vs to redéeme his déerest blood did spend . Farewell déere Wife and my 〈◊〉 Children 〈◊〉 For I must goe when as the Lord doth call ▪ The Glasse is run , my time is past away , The trumpe doth sound , I can no longer 〈◊〉 . Nothing but one I in this world doe craue , That is , to bring my Corp●● dead to the 〈◊〉 And Angells shall my Soule in safetie kéepe , Whilst that my Bodie in the graue doth sleepe . The Bells most swéetly ringing doe I 〈◊〉 , And now sterne death with spéed approcheth 〈◊〉 But the Bell towling doe I heare at last , Swéet Lord receiue my Soule when 〈…〉 . FINIS . Thomas Byl. The Soules Petition at Heauen Gate ; Or , the Second Part of the Clerke of West-Felton , being Thomas Byll . To the same Tune . O God which framedst both the earth and skye , With speed giue eare vnto my wofull crye , Receiue my Soule with thée for to remaine , In Angells blisse , where thou O Lord dost reigne . Though I against thy Lawes rebelled haue , For my rebellion Lord I mercie craue , Remit my sinnes though I haue don amisse , For Iesus sake take me into true blisse . Where ioyes are euermore without an end , And heauenly Quiristers the time doth spend , In singing Himnes and praises to the Lord , Lifting vp heart and voice with one accord . Oh , what a comfort is it for to sée The sacred Face of such a Maistie As thou O God , amongst thy Angells bright , The which no mortall can behold with sight . Cast me not Lord out from before that face . But with thy Saints grant me a dwelling place , And from thy Throane , O Lord doe not expell My Soule , but grant that it with thée may dwell . Let me with Dauid beg to kéepe a doore , In that the 〈◊〉 Court where ioyes are euermore , In 〈…〉 Father let me sit , 〈…〉 into the fierie pit . , , , 〈…〉 , but let me enter in . I 〈…〉 I thée offended haue , 〈◊〉 am not worthy pardon for to craue , But 〈◊〉 with thée all mercy is alone , To whom my Soule for mercy now is flowne . Take pitty then O Lord for Iesus sake , Into thy Tabernacle my Soule take : Remember how thy Sonne for me hath 〈◊〉 , And for my sake deathes passions did abide . He is the Key the gate for to vnlock , He makes me entrance when my soule doth knock , Vnto repentant Soules he promise gaue , That they with him a place in Heauen should haue . Thou open vnto me O Lord thy Gate , Where thou as King dost reigne in high estate , Confound me not with them that wicked are , But in thy mercies let me haue a share . Deale not in iustice with my Soule O Lord , For thou a heauie sentence thou 'lt a●●rd If sinfull Soules should haue their due desert , In Hells hot flame they should for euer 〈◊〉 Grant that my Soule may enter in true blisse , Condeme me not though I haue don amisse , But let my Soule with heauenly Angells sing Most ioyfully to thée my Lord and King. For there are ioyes which euer shall endure , The waters swéet of Life flow there most pure , There shall no worldly cares our minds 〈◊〉 , But there shall we remaine in truest rest . Which blest inheritance O Lord I pray , Giue to such Christian in thy righteous way● Grant that we all may gaine felicitie , In Heauen to dwell aboue the starrie skie . FINIS . London printed for Henry Gossen .