Save a Theefe from the Gallowes and hee'l hang thee if he can:
Or, The mercifull Father, and the mercilesse Sonne.
To the tune of, Fortune my Foe.
I am Giltles.
Save my Father▪ I am Gilty.
YOu disobedient children marke my fall,
And at my timelesse end take warning all.
Against my owne deare Father haue I done
A déede the like did neuer gracelesse Sonne.
In blooming yeares I was intic'd to sinne,
Ere I perceiu'd what danger lay therein:
And so from day to day, unto this houre,
To leaue the same I had not any power.
My Mother dead, my Father cockered me,
As men will doe when motherlesse we be,
And nothing then he thought for me too deare,
Which brought me thus into a gracelesse feare.
And when as I to elder yéeres did grow,
By wicked courses got I timelesse woe:
Each vaine delight belonging to young men,
Deceiued me, and brought my ruine then.
The deadly sinnes that are in number seuen,
Without more grace hath lost my joyes in heauen:
From first to last of those most cursed crimes,
Haue made me now a wonder of these times.
For wanting meanes to nourish up delight,
I went the wrong, and left the waies of right:
[...]ich to maintain, my father being grown poore,
[...] getting God, I daily rob'd for more.
[...] times he sau'd me from the Gallow trée,
[...] [...]es he cast himselfe in debt for mée,
[...] he set me up in good estate.
[...] [...]éepe me from [...]ntimely fate.
[...] [...]rouerb is fulfilled here,
[...] from gallows finds it deare:
[...]
So wanting meanes still to relieue my néede,
Put me in mind to doe a hatefull déede,
And séeke by blood the highway unto sinne,
Who wanting grace I soone grew perfect in.
My Fathers brother of good liuings knowne,
Being dead, as next of kin they were mine owne:
The which I wrought with these accursed hands,
To be the heire of all mines Vncles lands.
With mind prepar'd for murder, thus I went
Into the field which he did much frequent:
Where méeting him with mine own fathers knife,
Which I had stolne I tooke full soone his life.
And laid it then all bloudy by his side,
That all might sée my Vncle therewith dide,
And challeng'd it my Fathers knife to be,
When people came the murthered corps to sée.
O homicide, O cursed viprous brood,
Like Caine, to séeke my dearest Fathers bloud:
My owne deare Father being thus betraide.
I his owne childe the euidence was made.
So judg'd to death for that he neuer did,
The Lord in mercy did the same forbid:
For as he was to execution led,
A world of torments in my bosome bred.
To sée him stand vpon the Gallow trée,
From which before (good man) he saued me,
I could not chuse but tell what I had done,
And so confesse my selfe a wicked sonne.
Gods judgement now is rightly showne, said I,
Deare Father I haue [...]
[...]
The confession and repentance of George Sanders Gentleman late of Shugh in the County of Hereford, who unnaturally killed his Uncle, and accused his owne Father for the murder: but by Gods providence being discovered, he dyed for the same. Where he writ this Song with his owne hand.
To the tune of Fortune my Foe.
Lord bring my Soule out of Prison.
Psal. 142.7.
WHereat the people all in that same place,
There praised God that gaue me so much grace,
To quit my Father from that crying sin,
Where I with blood-red streams am drowned in.
My Father sau'd and I to prison sent,
Where now I liue with many a sad lament:
Which when you heare, you cannot chuse but say,
Repentance comes before my dying day.
His repentance in prison.
To the same tune.
MOngst Lions fell in Daniels Den am I,
In lowest prison cast with Ieremy,
Fed with Elias by the Ravens fell,
And plac'd with Ionas in the maw of Hell.
Naked with Esau, fearefull doe I walke,
Dumbe with old Zachary silent doe I talke,
Afflictions bread with Micha is my food,
And with the Prophet drinke I sorrowes flood.
As poore as Iob even now so poore am I,
Despis'd with Lazarus in great misery,
Banisht with David from my native land;
Cast up with Ionas on the Ninivite [...] sand.
Made blind with Tobit by the swallowes dung,
And with poore Ioseph cast in prison strong;
I weepe with Mary who had lost her Master,
And run with Peter who should run the faster.
I sinned have, for sinne God curst the ground,
I sinned have, for sinne the world was drown'd;
I sinned have, sinne Sodome set on fire,
Also for sinne did Aegypt feele Gods ire.
I sinned have, for sinne did Adam die,
I sinned have, sinne caused Davids crie;
I sinned have, and for sinne Satan fell,
From an high Angell to a Divell in Hell.
Shall David weepe for sinne, and shall not I,
Shall Mary weepe, and shall my eyes be dry?
Shall Esau weepe, and shall not I weepe more?
Did Peter weepe, such teares let me have store.
Did Mary weepe for losse of Master deare?
Did Martha weepe for sorrow toucht full neare?
Spring eyes with teares to wash his sacred feet,
That for my sinnes did shed his blood most sweet.
Larke-like I fly unto thy living Spring,
Desiring pardon of my heavenly King;
Past worldly hope, now like the theefe on tree,
I onely fixe my faith and hope on thee.
Looke backe to me as thou didst unto Peter,
Speake to my soule as to the theefe more sweeter?
Oh spie me out with Zache in the tree;
And with good Bartholomew call me Lord to thee.
Oh let me now with holy Abraham spie
A saving Ram that Isaac may not die;
Oh let me live for to sound out thy praise,
That I may shew thy mercy in my dayes.
Make me now a Sparrow in thy house O King,
That Swallow-like I may there sit and sing.
O let me in thy Temple keepe a doore,
That I may praise thy name for evermore.
George Sande [...]
FINIS.
Printed at London for Edw [...] [...]