And Villainy confess’d him as her own.
Grown old in sin, at no one crime dismay’d,
’Gainst nature’s cries he arm’d his callous heart,
For when his father was to death convey’d,
He growl’d, and damn’d the slowness of the cart.
Jack Ketch, to shew his duty to his friend
Will soon confirm it with the strongest tie;
But on such ties what mortal would depend?
A rogue he liv’d, and like a rogue he’ll die.
Now prest with guilt, he feels its sharpest sting,