Exiled from all that is happy and good,
Caress'd by a hand that is stain'd with blood.
Your innocent face shall never be kiss'd
By him who his Heaven and Hope has miss'd!
I suffer for sin, as I ought to do;
But, my darling, it shall not fall on you.
'I am safely hous'd by a faithful friend,
And the letter I write his hands will send;
I'm at Clarendon Crescent, Liverpool
(I've told you, Love, of the dear old school);