The song first appears in songbooks from 1671 consisting of three stanzas and a refrain. Some with no title or titled as "Captain Digby's Farewell"

The New Academy of Complements, Compiled by Charles Sackville and others, 1671, Song 308, p.292. (p.301 in 1713 edition)
Three stanzas and refrain

Captain Digby's Farewell - The New Academy of Complements 1671


Oxford Drollery, by William Hickes, 1671, p.128
Three stanzas and no refrain

Captain Digby's Farewell - Oxford Drollery 1671

I'Le go to my Love where he lies in the deep,
And in my embraces my dearest shall sleep,
When we awake the kind Dolphins together shall throng,
And in Chariot of Shells shall draw us along.

The Orient hath Pearls, which the Ocean bestows,
All mixed with Coral a Crown to compose,
Though the Sea-nymphs do spite us, and even our bliss,
We'll teach them to love, & the Cockles to kiss.

For my Love lies now in his watry Grave,
And hath nothing to shew for his Tomb but a wave,
I'le kiss his dear Lips than the Coral more red,
That grows where he lies in his watery Bed.
Ah, Ah, Ah, my Love's dead;
There was not a Bell,
But a Triton's Shell,
To ring, to ring out his Knell.



Windsor Drollery, 1671, Song 19, p.12.
Appears to be a parody of this song that turns a woman's lament about her drowned lover into a man's song about promiscuous sex
first line: I'll go to my love where he lies in the deep
last line: But a tortoise-shell to ring my love's knell
last stanza ends:
I will kiss her dear lips while her money does last,
But when it is gone, to another I'll haste.


"The Sorrowful Ladies Complaint", 1673.
The original three stanzas of "Captain Digby's Farewell" was then expanded to twelve stanzas in a black letter broadside ballad, which came to be applied to the death of the Earl of Sandwich, after the action in Sole Bay, 1673.

"The Sorrowful Ladies Complaint", 1673
To the tune of "The Earl Of Sandwich Farewell"

The Sorrowful Ladies Complaint 1673

"The Sorrowful Ladies Complaint"
Relating how a Damosel Lamenteth the loss of her Lover, who behaved himself very Valiantly in a late
Engagement at Sea, but at last was unfortunately Slain.
This Stories known both far and wide,
To Hollands wonder, Englands Pride;
Come therefore every Loyal Heart,
And in my burden bear a part.
To the Tune of, The Earl of Sandwich farewel.

ONe morning I walkd by my self on the shoar,
When the Tempest did sing and the Waves they did roar,
Yet the noise of the winds and the waters was drownd,
By the pittiful cry and the sorrowful sound,
Of ah! ah! ah! my Loves dead,
There is not a Bell
But a Tritons shell,
To ring, to ring, to ring my Loves knell.

It troubled me much when I heard all her grief,
But hoping it might not be past all Relief,
I followed the voice till at last I espyd,
A sorrowful Lady, and all that she cryd,
Was ah, ah, ah, my Loves dead,
There is not a Bell,
But a Tritons shell,
To ring, to ring, to ring my Loves knell.

A handsomer Damosel sure never were seen,
With a face like an Angel, a Robe like a Queen,
A Voyce like a Syren, and Eyes like a Dove,
Yet ever she cryd for the losse of her Love;
Ah, ah, ah, my Loves dead, etc.

When my Love was alive his courage was such,
He conquered the Dane, and affrighted the Dutch,
He venturd to shew he ner feard to dye,
But woe be to me that for ever must cry,
Ah, ah, ah, my Loves dead,
There is not a Bell,
But a Tritons shell,
To ring, to ring, to ring my Loves knell.

Surrounded with Ships and asaulted by Foes,
He stoutly received, and returned their blows,
So well he did manage his Ship in the strife,
That he never would yeild till he yeilded his life,
Ah, ah, ah, my Loves dead, etc.

To recal him to life, Oh what would I give?
But since he is dead, tis no pleasure to live,
He venturd for me, and shall I be afraid,
To dye for my love? it shall never be said:
Ah, ah, ah, my Loves dead,
There is not a Bell,
But a Tritons shell,
To ring, to ring, to ring my Loves knell.

The second Part, to [the] same Tune.

MY Love lies now in his watry Grave,
And hath nothing to shew for his Tomb but a Wave,
Ile kisse his dear lips, then the Corral more Red,
That grows where he lies in his watry Bed,
Ah, ah, ah, my Loves dead,
There is not a Bell, but a Trytons shell,
To ring, to ring, to ring my Loves knell.

The Oriential Pearl, which the Ocean bestows,
We'l mix with a Corral, a Crown to compose:
The Sea Nymps shall grieve, and envy our blisse,
We'l teach them to love, and like Cockels to kisse,
Ah, ah, ah, my Loves dead,
There is not a Bell, but a Trytons shell,
To ring, to ring, to ring my Loves knell.

Ile go to my Love that lies in the deep,
And in my imbraces my dearest shall sleep,
When awake, the kind Dolphins together shall throng,
In Chariots of Shells to convey him along,
Ah, ah, ah, my Loves dead,
There is not a Bell, but a Trytons shell:
To ring, to ring, to ring my Loves knell.

And just as she spoke, she was casting her self
From the top of a Rock on a dangerous shelf,
But I being neer her made hast to her aid,
And savd her from falling, when just she had said
Ah, ah, ah, my Loves dead,
There is not a Bell,
But a Trytons shell,
To ring, to ring, to ring my Loves knell.

Fair Lady, said I, whether Maiden or Wife,
Your death will not call the departed to Life:
Loves fire goes out at the losse of the Fuel,
And though you be constant, you need not be cruel.
Ah! what though your Loves dead,
Yet he had a Bell,
Not a Trytons shell
To ring, to ring, to ring out his knell:

She started to find this unhappy surprize,
With grief in her face, and disdain in her eyes,
She told me my kindness had done her much wrong,
And prayd me to bear but a part in her Song:
Ah, ah, ah, my Loves dead,
There was not a bell,
But a Trytons shell,
To ring, to ring, to ring out his knell.

London, Printed for Phillip Brooksby, at the Hospital-gate,
in West-smith-field.