The Midwife's
Maid's Lamentation,
In NEWGATE.
Or her continual fear of the Devil tearing her alive out
of the Bed every Night.
To murder poor young Infants is a Crime,
Was hardly ever heard since Herod's time.
Till now by this same Midwife and her Maid,
Who many years young Children have destroy'd
Tune of, Russel's Farwell.
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GOod People all I pray attend
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And give Ear to my Song,
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While these Distracted Lines are pen'd
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Concerning infants young,
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I was the Midwifes Maid its true,
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And acted in the deed,
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Oh what must my poor Soul now do,
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My very heart doth bleed.
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I am in Newgate now confin'd
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For the great Villany,
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Which my Mistress an I oft-times
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did Act most Barbarously,
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To starve small Children was no crime,
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we constantly did think,
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We frequent did from time to time
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Let them want Meat and Drink.
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But now no comfort's to be found
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either by Day or Night,
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For these poor infants underground,
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doth constant me affright,
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For when I once do go to sleep
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My mind's disturb'd the more,
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My thinks the little Infants peep,
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and cries for Victuals sore.
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Which startles me ith dead oth Night,
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then straight I do awake,
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And then I'm in so great a fright
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it makes my heart to ake,
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For when to mind I once do call
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Our wicked Cruelty,
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Against those little Babes so small,
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No Soul will pitty me.
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And for this Fact I now must dye,
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for starving Children dear,
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Oh what a wicked Wretch was I
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the same not to declare,
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Oh that I had but once made known
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this deed of Cryelty,
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But now alass I am undone,
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No Soul will pity me.
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Oh let my wretched, wretched day
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to all a warning be,
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That they use no such evil ways,
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To cause their misery,
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But you that undertake to keep
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Small Chilldren while they live,
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Oh do not let them cry and weep,
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In hunger Victuals give.
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Now to conclude my dismal doom,
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I hant one minutes rest,
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For every Night within my Room,
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strange fancies do possess,
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Sometimes the Devil would me haw[l]
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out of the Bed I think,
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The Children in my Ears do bawl
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for Victuals and for Drink.
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