The Doleful Lamentation
Of Thomas Dangerfield, who was lately apprehended and
Imprisoned in Newgate, for High Misdemeaner, etc.
To the Tune for mine own offence I must Dye.
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I.
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MArk well my words you Country Men,
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And Loyal Subjects all,
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And take Example now by me,
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To shun a dreadful fall.
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My Name's unhappy Dangerfield,
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In Prison I am fast,
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And all my great Designs are turn'd
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To sorrow now at last.
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II.
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In England I was born and bred,
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And Educate at School:
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But all the Labour was but lost,
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Since I grew up a Fool:
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Altho' GOD doth Govern all things,
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According to his Will,
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He never yet did bring to pass
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An Action that was ill.
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III.
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When men resist the Motions, and
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Convictions of the Truth,
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And follow all the fond Delights
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That's incident to Youth,
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The GOD of TRUTH departs from them,
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And leaves them to their sin;
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And then the subtile Serpent doth
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Ensnare them in his Jen.
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IV.
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I by degrees of sin did climb
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The steps of Wickedness;
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Which now (alass) hath brought poor me
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To wooful great distress:
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I was unfaithful to my GOD,
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And Trayterous to my KING,
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And I was ready (on a call)
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To every Evil Thing.
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V.
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My Vices they were manifold,
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My Company was evil;
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I us'd a Thousand wild conceits,
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To run me to the Devil.
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I turn'd a Coiner by my Trade,
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And Mountibank of State,
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For which I'm grieved at the Heart,
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Though now it be too late.
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VI.
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Now I'm inclos'd in Prison close,
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Secur'd in Walls of Stone;
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I languish without Remedy,
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Relief I can have none.
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My Senses are my sorrows sluce,
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The Flood-gates of my shame,
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And all my cruel Comforters
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Add Fewel to my Flame.
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VII.
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O were I at my Liberty
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(As I have been before)
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I never would prove Treacherous,
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Nor run on such a score.
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But now my Lamentation's late,
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My Sighs they are in vain;
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Nor can I entertain a thought
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To be set free again.
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VIII.
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You Spirits brave that live at ease,
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Yet never are content,
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But still will be a medling
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With State and Parliament:
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Leave off your high and great Designs,
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And change your minds with speed,
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It is the greatest fall that's from
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Promotions Piramid.
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