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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A10473 The life and death of Gamaliell Ratsey a famous theefe of England, executed at Bedford the 26. of March last past, 1605. Ratsey, Gamaliel, d. 1605. Repentance. 1605 (1605) STC 20753; ESTC S102571 24,142 47

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brought downe to the place of Iudgement where they shewed themselues so valiant that they thrust twelue men into a corner who sound them all guiltie for the Robberie committed in Bedfordshire vppon the Gentleman and his Brother And they were sent away from the Barre with the dolefull sentence of Lord haue mercie vpon you And the seauen and twentie day of March last they were all Executed in Bedford aforesaid Ratseys repentance which he wrote with his owne hand when hee was in New-gate THe silent night had shadowed euerie Tree And Phoebus in the west was shrowded lowe Each Hiue had home her busie labouring Bee And Birds their nightly harbour gan to knowe And all things did from wearie labour linne When I began to way my state and sinne Men worne with worke betooke them to their rest The sunne had left to shew his glorious beames Titan had fully hid him in the West To coole the set lockes of his wearie teames When sunke with sorrow beeing captiuate I shed foorth teares lamenting much my state My head on hand my elboe on my knee And teares did trickle downe my count●nance than My countenance as sad as mans might bee My dumps befitting well a captiue man Fetter'd in Prison passionate alone My sighs wrought teares and thus I gan to moane I that of late did liue a Souldiers life And spent my seruice in my countries good Now captiue lie where nought but cares are rife Where is no hope but losse of deerest blood This is befall'n mee cause I did mispend That time which God to better vse did lend Sigh for my musicke is a Syrens song A faire deceipt to shadow men in griefe Did I say fayre Alas I call'd it wrong Vlisses knew the Syrens daungers chiefe Was when she sung to lull a man a sleepe Then fashion'd shee to sing to make men weepe Deceauing Syrens Syrens all to mee A shining shadowe but a dreame of glo●de A bayte a trappe I blinde and could not see A dangerous pray and I both fond and bolde Would venture all all for a worthles toye And so I left and lost my chiefest ioye Had I but stopt mine eares when Syrens sung And bound my selfe vnto Vlisses mast Or had I thought alas I am but young Too much is all to venture on a cast I might haue liu'd and from all dangers free Where now I dye for life is not for me But I did follow what I knew was vaine Insteed of vertue I did vice imbrace My former pleasures now procure my paine And cause I lackt one sparke of timely grace The poysoned Aconite of death and woe Resolues to send a fatall ouerthrowe This makes mines eyes to gush out floods of teares My flesh to melt my vaines and artirs rend My soule to seeke redresse to cure her feares For now my cause cannot affoord one friend I that of late did number many friends Nowe finde them fled and no man comfort lends The leaueles tree with wrath of Winters winde Best represents my wretched wasting state Fortune the winde the leaues my friends I finde My selfe the Tree that thus am crost by fate And yet in this we greatly differ may That it reuiues and I still pine away I cannot speake but kill my selfe with words I cannot thinke but I my conscience wounde Law stabbes me still in euery part with swords Iustice commaunds in fetters I bee bound And for I haue been graceles griefes doe spring My daies misled my present cares doe bring Confounding sadnes like a loade of leade Chilles all my blood and makes my sinewes shrinke Reuenge quoth wrong let rigour stand in stead Death filles the Cup and saies that I must drinke This makes me pleade this makes me call and cry To heauens great King for mercie ere I die I all confus'd and in confusion wrapt Implore Gods mercy prostrate on my face Youngling I was and nouice-like intrapt Repentance true away shall follies chase Forgiue Oh heauens th'iniquities of youth Doe not obiect the faults of my vntruth Villaines avaunt you bastards are by kinde That doe perturbe the Countries quiet state Shame to offend shun a corrupted minde And learne by me your former life to hate Liue of your owne and braue it not with brags Least Law condemne you in your proudest rags Awake for shame and lift your eye-lids vp Sleepe not secure nor dreame of doing wrong If Iustice strike you cannot change her cup Death being done you fall for he is strong And then your course because you did not cease To vexe your King with noubling countries peace Drinke not the Nectar of your Neighbors sweate Steale not at all thy God dooth so commaund Whose lawe to keepe thy Sou●raigne doth intreate Thy health it is Gods law to vnderstand Obeying God God shall all harmes preuent Keeping Kings Peace thy King is well content Like to the Woolfe in euerie place you range Praying on Lambes that neuer went astray And like Camelions must your suites be strange Who dooth by kinde change colours euery day Without respect forgetting what you bee Masking in sinne as if God could not see Abate presumption sinne is not a iest Though God forbeare yet will he strike at length God made thee man make not thy selfe a beast But seeke to loue thy God with soule and strength Ill got ill spent your hopes in Theft pretended Are griefe and shame and life in sorrowes ended Your chiefe desires to fill your pursse with golde By hooke and crooke all careles of regarde You count him best that Bayardlike is bolde For such desires sharpe reckonining is prep●rde Leaue then to sinne so may you scape that fall Which following vice you cannot shun at all Mad is the minde that still in dangers stray Iron his heart whose gaine is others woe Solde is his soule whome Sathan leades away His path distruction where so ere he goe Solde solde for drosse Oh bee not so deceau'd Hell gapes soule sincks of heauenly ioyes bereau'd It 's I inuect knowes what infection is And loues effect that makes me thus to warne Take what I giue for good confection t is By my downe-fall far better may you learne Least all to late you weepe as well as I In deathes deepe griefe expecting still to die My sorrowing sobbes with teares redeeme what 's past Or slouds of teares suffice for fore-done ills Beholde my lookes with discontent ore cast Whose heart dooth rend whose eyes fresh fountaines s●●ls And yet all this and all that I can doe Is small to that which I haue neede to doe My soule shall mourne for all my ill-done deedes And I will weepe sole Author of soules woe Repentance shall be my blacke mourning weedes I le bathe my selfe in teares from top to toe And while life is which cannot now belong Graunt mercie Lord this shall be all my song My heart through flesh shall issue sweating griefe And scald my bones with salt and brinish teares Through flesh and bone my
heart shall beg reliefe On bended knees till bone my flesh outweares All that I am I le spend in mourne for sinne And where I end a fresh I will begin Deuine celestiall maker of earths Globe Crown'd King of Kings moste happie power of powers Iust in thy Iudgement cleare in Scarlet Robe Sweet of all sweets in iudgement gall to sowres Release my sorrowes if thou thinke it meete And Salue my sinfull sores with Balme so sweet Great God remit the follies of my youth Thy power deuine I will no more offend But I will striue to serue thee still in truth While to this bodie thou a life dost lend And at my end I le giue the praise to thee If thou but graunt one dram of thy mercie If Maudlins teares did euer Christ's feete wet And sweet her soule with true repentant teares If Peters mourning streames did mercy get For all his sinnes though hee his Christ forsweares My sad laments abounding from mine eyes Sweet God accept and heare my mournefull cryes A wounded Soule a broken contrite heart Creepes in great'st throng thy mercies Throne to touch The oyle of life King of my life impart Though sinne be great thy mercies thrice as much Oh thou that art in power and mercy great Send downe thy mercie from thy mercies feate The Publican supprest with weight of sinne Durst not presume to cast his eyes on hie Gazing on earth his heart did neuer linne But Miserere lowely he did crie Peccaui Lord this sinners soule confessed Whose note I sing that haue no lesse transgressed The wandring Sonne whose portion was mispent With ryots surfets quaffing bowles of wine Dainties all deere In hunger now content To feede with Hogs this prodigalls not nice All tattered torne shak't out of colours fine Neede him compels to keepe a strangers swine The ground contentes him now to rest vpon Whome beds of downe did whilome discontent His head vp boulstred with some hill or stone The clouds a couering to his field-bed lent Where sorrie man ore ' plundged wofull lyes His Curtaines colde his Canapy the skies Renumerating with himselfe the cause Of want of woe of hunger and of colde Offence to God the breaking of his lawes Then breake out teares he could no longer holde But weeping ran till he his Father sees In true repentance bending on his knees And with lowd Organ of a faynting soule Father he said I haue gainst heauen offended Gainst earth and thee whose power dooth sin controule No worthy Sonne so he his faint speech ended Yet still in silence pearles of teares dril'd foorth Till Fathers welcome counted him of worth His Fathers heart in pittie then relents About his necke he closde his aged armes Glad in his heart his Sonne in heart repents Receaues him home and with a kisse he warnes That all his friendes should feast at his free cost And welcome home his Sonne so long was lost Thrice happie Sonne whose teares renew this grace And sweet repentance was it home thee brought Threefolde thrice double happie Fathers face A Sonne to finde whome thou so long hast sought And Sonne moste happie in a Father kinde Who being lost did such a Father finde The selfe same Balme is cure for my great woe The same repentance makes me Abba crie My speech dooth faint and I can say no more Mercye redresse els languishing I die Sweet sweete of sweetes blest balme chiefe ease of paine Graunt memy home I will not stray againe No more shall folly holde my wits in thrall Wisdome shall ransome Will from Follies bandes Experience shall forewarne me Syrens all Nor shall dispaire touch Conscience with foule hands But till lifes end my prayers to heauen shall hye And with repentance will I liue and die With sinne my soule shall bee no more opprest My God to serue shall now be all my care No longer shall my thoughts bee at vnrest But dayly shun the place where wicked are And while the remnant of my life doth last I le sigh and sorrow for my sinnes forepast My colour'd suites I now exchange for blacke Till scarlet sinnes be all as white as snowe On me sweet time shall neuer turne his backe Nor shall his taske be more my tares to mowe But with repentance furrow hopes forlorne Till God giue grace I sheaff vp better corne This little remnant of my life so poore He teach to shun all sinne and vices all Giuer of grace graunt grace I sinne no more Establish me that I may neuer fall To thee my heart my life and soule I giue Who after death eternally makes liue Dyrect my pathes euen for thy mercies sake Guide thou my steps to keepe repentant wayes Keepe me from sleept in thee still let me wake To laude thy name during these arthly daies And when from earth I shall dissolue to iust Graunt that my soule may liue among the just Gamaliel Ratsey FINIS