The NOTORIOUS Robbers Lamentation. OR, Whitneys Sorrowful Ditty, In the Gaol of Newgate: Together, with an Account of his Dream that Morning before he was taken. Tune of, Russels Farewel. Licensed according to Order.
|
I On the Roads have Reigned long,
|
in open Villainy,
|
But now, with Iron Fetters strong,
|
in Prison close I lye.
|
Farewel to all my Jovial Crew,
|
Couragious, Stout and Bold;
|
I now must bid you all adieu,
|
stout Whitney lyes in hold.
|
I, that have taken many a Purse,
|
must now submit to Fate;
|
The Frowns of Fortune here I curse,
|
to see my wretched state:
|
The Liberty which once I had,
|
by Law is now controul'd,
|
And many Thousands now is glad
|
that Whitney is in hold.
|
The Lyons heart, which once I bore
|
within this Breast of mine,
|
Is now with sorrows grieved sore,
|
that life I must Resine:
|
The stoutest hearts will shrink at death,
|
and wax with sorrow cold,
|
E'relong I must yield up my Breath,
|
since I am here in hold.
|
Oh! why was I so void of Fear,
|
when wait I knew was laid,
|
To Sieze and Apprehend me here,
|
for Pranks which I have plaid,
|
It was my harden'd impudence
|
which made me sure so bold,
|
But for my former cross offence,
|
stout Whitney lyes in hold.
|
Near Houndsditch I was know by one,
|
who watcht me where I went,
|
Then for an Officer did run;
|
I finding his intent,
|
Did draw my naked Sword in hand,
|
being Couragious bold,
|
But I their force could not withstand,
|
but soon was laid in hold.
|
My Sword and Pistols were in vain,
|
they could not clear the way,
|
Hundreds and Thousands flock'd amain,
|
intreating me to stay,
|
They being glad to see my Face,
|
as I was often told,
|
And they did guard me to this place,
|
where now I lye in hold.
|
My very Ears they did annoy,
|
for the Tumultuous Throng,
|
With Shouts and loud Huzzas of Joy,
|
Conducted me along.
|
Thus have I ended the Old Year,
|
with heart both chill'd and cold,
|
The hand of Justice now I fear,
|
since being in strong hold.
|
Straitways I found a New-Years Gift,
|
they did on me bestow,
|
Almost as much as I could lift,
|
O this was love you know,
|
A pair of Fetters strong and stout,
|
of Bars of Iron cold,
|
As much as I could drag about,
|
to keep me in strong hold.
|
I find that dreams are Omnious,
|
for just the Night before,
|
Methoughts I see old Hercules
|
fighting with Thousands more,
|
Yet at the length he was subdu'd,
|
tho' Valiant Stout and Bold:
|
This meant my self I do conclude,
|
who now am in strong hold.
|
My Glory now is at an end,
|
I nothing see but shame,
|
For since I did the Laws offend,
|
I suffer for the same,
|
I never do expect to find
|
mercy from them, not I,
|
To Villainy I was inclin'd,
|
For which I now must dye.
|
|
|
|
|
|