The Confession and Repentance of George Saunders, Gentleman, late of Hugh,
in the County of Hertford, who killed his own Uncle, and accused his own Father for the Murther, but
by Gods providence being discover'd, dyed for the same, whereas he wrote this Song with his own hand.
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His Repentance in Prison,
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MOngst Lyons fell in Daniels Den am I,
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In lowest Prison cast with Jeremy:
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Fed with Elias by the Ravens fell,
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And plac'd with Judas in the maw of Hell.
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Naked with Esau fearful do I walk,
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Dum[b w]ith Old Zachary silent do I talk,
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Affl[ictio]ns Bread with Micha is my food,
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A[nd with the] Prophet drink I sorrows flood.
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As [poor as Job], even now so poor am I,
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De[spis'd with] Lazarus in great misery,
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[Banisht with] David from my native Land,
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[Cast up with] Jonas on the Nenivites Sand.
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[Made blind w]ith Toby by the Swallows dung,
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[And with poor] Josep[h cast in the prison strong,
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I weep with Mary who had lost her Master,
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And run with Peter who should run the faster.]
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I sinned have, for sin God curst the Ground,
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I sinned have, for sin the World was drown'd,
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I sinned have, sin Sodom set on fire,
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Also for sin did Egypt fell Gods ire.
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I sinned have, for sin did Adam dye,
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I sinned have, sin caused Davids cry,
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I sinned have, and for sin Satan fell,
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From an high Angel, to a Devil in Hell.
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Did David weep, and shall not I then cry,
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Did Mary weep, and shall mine eyes be dry,
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Did Esau weep and shall not I weep more,
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Did Peter weep, such tears let me have store.
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Did Mary weep, for loss of Master dear,
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Did Martha weep, with sorrow touch her neer.
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Spring Eyes with tears to wash his sacred feet,
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That for my sin did shed his blood so sweet:
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Lark like I flye unto the living spring,
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Desiring pardon of my Heavenly King;
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Past wordly hope now like the Theif on Tree,
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I only fix my faith and hope in thee,
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Look back on me as thou didst unto Peter,
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Speak to my Soul, as to the Theif most sweeter;
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O spy me out with Zhacheus on the tree,
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And with sweet Barthelomew call me Lord to thee
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O let me now with holy Abraham spy,
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A saving Ram that Isaach may not dye:
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O let me live for to sound forth thy praise
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That I may shew thy mercy [in my days.]
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Make me a swallo[w in thy house, O King,]
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Th[at swallow-like I may sit there and sing:
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O let me in thy Temple keep a door,
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That I may praise thy name for evermore.
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