Great his transgressions, and but small his hope,
He gave the Sheriff (all he had!) a ring,
He gain’d from justice (all he fear’d!) a rope.
No farther seek his vices to disclose,
But leave the culprit to his dark abode;
There let him rest, till, breaking his repose,
The hangman summons him to Tyburn-road.
——:o:——
An Elegy written in St. Stephens.
Gazettes now toll the melancholy knell,