“John William Marchant is my name,
I do confess I have been to blame.”
And here we must observe that the poet makes his hero speak of his offence rather too lightly, as if, indeed, it had been nothing more than a common misdemeanour.
“I little thought, my dear parents kind,
I should leave this earth with a troubled mind.”
Now this is modest; he is actually surprised that his parents are at all grieved at the idea of getting rid of such a scoundrel, and well he might be.
“I lived as servant in Cadogan Place,
And never thought this would be my case,
To end my days on the fatal tree:
Good people, pray drop a tear for me.”
There is a playfulness about the word “drop,” introducing just here after “the fatal tree,” which, in our mind, somewhat diminishes the plaintiveness of the entreaty; but we must not be hypocritical.
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Then comes his trial and condemnation, the account of which is most remarkable precise and pithy.
“At the Old Bailey I was tried and cast,
And the dreadful sentence on me was past
On a Monday morning, alas! to die,
And on the eight of this month of July.”