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OW ponder well ye parents dear,

the words that I ſhall write,

A doleful ſtory you ſhall hear,

was lately brought to light.

A gentleman of good report,

in Norfolk liv'd of late,

Whoſe wealth and honour did ſurmount,

moſt men of his eſtate.

Sore ſick he was and like to die.

and he no help could have.

His worthy wife by him lay ſick,

they both poſſeeſ,'d one grave,

Betwixt them two no love was loſt,

each was to other kind,

In love they liv'd, in love they died,

and left two babes behind,

The one he was a pretty boy,

not paſſing three year old,

The other a girl, younger than he,

and made in beauty's mould.

The father left his little ſon,

as it doth well appear,

When he to perfect aye ſhould come,

three hundred pounds a year,

And to his little daughter Jean,

two hundred pounds in gold,