THE
Murtherer's Moan;
OR,
The Penitent Lamentation of J. B. Gent, for the Murther of his
Wife Elizabeth, which he bitterly Lamented, a little before his
Execution, which was at Tyburn, on the 18th of this Instant Sep-
tember, 1691.
Tune of, Johnson's Farewel. Licensed according to Order.
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WIth aking heart this day I write
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a mournful Tragedy;
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Before my Soul is taking flight,
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into Eternity:
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That men who see my wretched state,
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may warned be therefore;
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Let not Repentance come too late,
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God's mercies I implore.
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Unto my Grief I do confess,
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this day I guilty stand,
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Of Blood which does my Soul oppress,
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behold this Cruel Hand
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Which I stretch'd forth against my dear,
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to take her Life away;
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How am I able to appear
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in this another day.
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My Parents did in wealth abound,
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and I their Youthful Son,
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A Fair Sweet Charming Creature found,
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by whom my heart was won;
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I marry'd making her my Wife,
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though of a mean degree,
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Then did I take away her Life,
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was this not Cruelty.
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It constantly run in my mind,
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for to make short her days,
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And then I might some Lady find,
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who would my fortune raise;
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These was my thoughts, dear friends behold,
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who was with malice fraught;
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Thus for the sake of cursed Gold,
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I am to ruin brought.
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The Snare that for my Love I laid,
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was by a Letter sent;
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Poor heart my will she straight obey'd,
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not knowing my intent;
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She came and met her only Joy,
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well pleased that she might,
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But there her Life I did destroy,
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this was a bloody night.
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For why she like a Lamb indeed,
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did to her Slaughter go,
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And when she for her Life did plead,
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no pity would I show;
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But did the bloody Knife extend,
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which gave the fatal wound,
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For which my Life is at an end,
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with Sorrows compast round.
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My hands I did begin to wring,
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and did her Death condole;
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For Conscience straight began to sting
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my double-guilty Soul;
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Like one distracted in my mind,
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I wander too and fro,
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And could no peace or quiet find,
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mine Eyes with tears did flow.
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I have been wounded to the heart,
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tormented night and day;
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For why before she did depart,
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as on the Ground she lay,
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She struggl'd with me for her life,
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and cry'd most bitterly,
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Have pity on your lawful Wife,
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and do not murther me.
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When I before the Judgment-Seat
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of the great God appear,
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And with my murther'd Wife shall meet,
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if God should be severe:
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Alas! what will become of me,
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whose Deeds have been unjust?
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But there is mercy, Lord, with thee,
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in whom I put my trust.
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O that I ne'er had Guilty been,
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for why, I do declare,
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This Murther is a crying Sin,
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which Mortal cannot bear;
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I dye, I dye a shameful Death,
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which doth my Parents grieve;
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Yet when I shall resign my breath,
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good Lord my Soul receive.
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