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Elegies & laments

Lamented loss and death of the right honourable Sir Robert Peel

THE LAMENTED LOSS AND DEATH OF THE RIGHT HONORABLE

SIR ROBERT PEEL,

BART, M.P.

[NLS note: a graphic appears here - see image of page]

BORN

FEBRUARY 5,

1786

AND DIED

AT ELEVEN,PM.

JULY 2, 1850.

AGED 62.

E HODGES, Printer, (from the late J, Pitt.
Wholesale Toy Warehouse 31, Dudley st.
Seven Dials.

Britannia ! Bri tannia ! what makes three com-
plain,
O why so, in sorrow relenting,              [pain
Old England is lost, we are borne down in
And the nation in grief is lamenting,
That excellent man—the pride of the land,
Whom every virtue possessed him,
Is gone to that Home from whence no one re-
turns,
Our dear friend, Sir Robert, God rest him.

The rich and the poor all did him adore,
Admited, beloved, and respected,
For his country's right, he struggled with might
And nothing by him was neglected,
He nobly guided the helm of State,
The poor long has praised and bless'd him,
Now tears wet each eye, while in sorrow they
sigh,
He is gone, is Sir Robert, God rest him.

Sad, sad was the day, when misfortune that
way,                                          [him,
From health, strength, and vigour had tossed
Upon the hard ground, to receive his death
wound, [him,
Oh, mourn ! mourn ! Britannia, we've lost
His equal again sure be never shall find,
For every goodness possessed him, [sleeps,
Brittannia shall weep, by the tomb where he
The patriot, Sir Robert, God rest him.

Our Queen sighed in tears, when the tidings
she heard,
And her children with hearts full of sorrow,
Saying, England is done, oh ! where shall we
To meet with his equal to morrow. [run-
He is not to be found upon England's ground,
Already, already, we've missed him,
Brittannia deplore, we'll behold him no more,
The glory of England, God rest him.

Talk o Canning and Pitt, for their talents and
wit,

And all who upheld that high station,
Oh ! been there has ne'er such a noble Premier
As Sir Robert before in the nation.
He'd by no one be led, he'd by no oue bo said,
No Government feared to trust him,
In every way he carried the sway,
For the good of his country. God rest him,

At sixty-two years of age, cruel death did en-
gage,
Britannia to move from her sration,
From her councils and land, called that excel-
lent man,
Sir Robert the pride of the nation,
Oh ! the tears that were shed, by Sir Robert's
de th bed.
Some hours before life had left him,
Caused hearts to complain in grief, sorrow, and
He is gone, is Sir Robert, God rest him. [pain

In the tomb where he sleeps many thousands
will weep,
And his virtuous deeds lay before ye,
And he will receive in the regions of bliss,
A coronet braided with glory,          (complain
Though we part him with pain, its no use to
He is for ever gone and we've missed him,
In peace may he sleep, while Brittannia does
weep,
For her servant Sir Robert, God bless him.

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