Transcription
WIth melting Eyes and bleeding Heart, of Grief and Heaviness,
Before this Life I do depart, my Sins I here confess,
The which alas! are manifold, and of a scarlet Dye;
The Bloud I shed, does, now behold, for fearful Vengeance cry.
The Laws of God and Man I broke, by lewd unlawful ways,
And therefore now Death's fatal stroke, will end my wretched days;
Mercy, I'm sure, they cannot show to such a one as I,
My scarlet Sins, they do, I know for fearful Vengeance cry.
I must acknowledge to my shame, the Road I did frequent,
So rich and poor where-e'r I came, tho' ne'r so innocent,
I robb'd them of their Wealth with speed, such was my villany;
But now my Heart begins to bleed, my Sins for Vengeance cry.
Amongst my many Crimes, at last a Quaker's Bloud I spilt,
Which does my hope of Glory blast, my Soul is stain'd with guilt;
I murder'd him, and robb'd his Wife, for which I come to die;
But, oh! the Sins of my lewd Life does for just Vengeance cry.
At Stone-bridge, near to Kingsland- Town, I did my Pistol load,
I shot him, and he soon dropt down, and dy'd there in the Road;
His Wife, when she the Pistol hears,
it was a sad surprize,
By him she shed a flood of Tears, to hear his Groans and Cries.
I took away what Gold they had, and likewise Silver too;
Then after that, a little Lad I likewise did pursue;
I spared neither Rich nor Poor, such was my villany,
Alas! my wicked Sins therefore, does for just Vengeance cry.
When I this wicked Deed had done, my Heart was harden'd sure,
Tho through the Town the news did run,
I thought myself secure;
But Justice fairly found me out, condemn'd I am to die,
My bloudy Sins, I make no doubt, they did for Vengeance cry.
A wicked Creature I have been, unto a high degree;
But now the Soul-amazing Sin, of Murther startles me,
The fearful wrath of God I dread, as being brought to die,
Because the Bloud which I have shed, does for just Vengeance cry.
There's few or none regards my moan, because I was enclin'd,
To covet that which wan't my own,
a just Reward I find;
It is no more than what is fit, that I should die, for why
The Murther which I did commit, does for just Vengeance cry.
All you that sad Spectators are, of this my shameful end,
Afford me now a Christian-prayer, my Soul to God commend;
For tho' I liv'd in Wickedness,
yet since I come to die,
A hearty Sorrow I express, for all my Villany.