"Who made the heart, 'tis He alone
Decidedly can try us;

He knows each chord-its various tone,
Each spring-its various bias:

Then at the balance let's be mute,
We never can adjust it;

What's done we partly may compute,

But know not what's resisted."

The left-hand woodcut (here reduced, on our p. 227) re-appears at the head of another ballad, in Roxburghe Coll., iv. 13, with a different and more appropriate label, "Sin caused Righteous be kill'd in the Gates." It is printed for F. Coles, T. Vere, J. Wright, and J. Clark [about 1650-74]; and entitled, "England's Gentle Admonition; or, A Warning-Piece to all Sinners": beginning, "Good People all I pray draw near." It goes to a different measure and tune (viz. "Poor Tom's Progress," &c.); and was written by one "Thomas Robins, a well-wisher to the Church of England." It is of similar character to our "Sinners Care to Repent," which not improbably may have been written by the same person, Thomas Robins. He wrote at least one other ballad; and an Arraignment and Indicting of Sir John Barleycorn, prose and verse, 8vo., 1675. It is in the Pepys Collection.

[Bagford Collection, II. 63.]

The Sinners Care to Repent in due

time:

Let not the Sun go down upon your wrath, and let us live in love one with another.

Ood Christian people be content,
JLets forsake our sins, and presently Repent,
And not to Dwell in an Evil way,

As many do at this present Day:

For that man that has a Conscience clear,

When Death does come he need not fear.

Our sinful lives breeds mighty woe

In our sinful Nation, this we know ;

One Neighbour will strive to wrong another,
We cannot trust Sister nor Brother:

But that man, &c.

Cheating and couzening is every day,

So by that means we do go astray,

Their taking of Gods name in vain,

They venture their souls, for worldly gain;
But that, &c.

6

11

16

Some will damn and swear, and curse and lye,
And act their sins so very high,

They think there is no God in Heaven,
How shall such sinners be forgiven.
But that, &c.

Whoring and drinking's all the sport,
It's a beastly thing, i'm sorry for't:
With hateful pride and malice store,
There is no pitty to the poor.
But that, &c.

To see when love we did imbrace,
There was no want in any place;
The poor they need not to complain,
Their hungry bowels to maintain.
But that, &c.

But Pride doth carry all the sway,
And Charity it is fled away:
Plain dealing is not to be found,
But sin upon sin that does abound.
But that, &c.

Therefore we had need have a care,
To leave our sins and go to Prayer;
That our Saviour Christ he may be pleas'd,
That our sinful souls they may be eas'd.

But that man that has a conscience clear
When Death does come he need not fear.

And to
Α
That's not the way Heaven to win;
But call for grace, and beg and pray,
That God may guide us night and day.
but that man that has a conscience clear,
when Death doth come, he needs not fear.

Nd not to sleep and snort in sin,

But so many cursed Cains there be,
That follows murdering villany;
And dangers souls and bodies sure,
The pains of Hell for to indure.
but that man, &c.

[Fresh column.]

48

[? Endangers.]

53

Both old and young, both great and small,

You see the danger of it all;

Let's mend our lives and call for grace,

Our time is going on apace.

but that man, &c.

68

And lets live in love and2 be content,

With every thing that God hath sent:
For Satan with his crafty wile

Mans fancy oft he doth beguile.
but that man, &c.

And lets live in love and pray for peace,
That Charity it may increase:

And have true Repentance for our sins,
That we a new Life may begin.

but that man, &c.

So to conclude and make an end,
Pray God his blessing amongst us send:
And lets pray to God for his good grace,
That we may all injoy a resting place:

but that man that has a conscience clear,
When Death does come he need not fear.

FINIS.

Printed for J. Deacon, at the Rain-bow, near St. [An-] drews-Church, in Holborn.

[Black-letter. Date, about 1680.]

73

78

84

This usage of the word framed wrought, or done, is still common as a provincialism; especially in the East Riding of Yorkshire. 2 Orig. misprints “add.”

BAGFORD.

R

Francis Winter's Last Farewell.

Autolycus.-"Gallows and Knock are too powerful on the Highway. Beating and hanging are terrors to me."-The Winter's Tale, Act iv.

ANOTHER copy of this melancholy ditty is in the Pepys

Collection, ii. 188. The tune named is "Russell's Farewell." There are two distinct copies of verses bearing this title, viz. 1st-"Oh, the mighty innocence of Russell, Bedford's son!" which goes to the merry notes of Dean Aldrich's Christ-ChurchBells, and is found in Loyal Songs, 1685, p. 136. The other, 2nd-in the Pepys Collection, ii. 165-is of more serious tone, beginning,

Pride, the bane of human creatures,
Will corrupt the best of natures,
When it soars to its full height,
Who can stand it, or command it,
When the object is in sight?

-R. H. Evans' Old Ballads, 1810, iii. 203.

To the tune of "Tender hearts of London City." The full title is, "Lord Russell's Farewel, Who was Beheaded for HighTreason, in Lincolns-Inn-Fields, July 21st, 1683." This proves to be the "Russell's Farewell" referred to. It was printed for P. Brooksby, the same year.

In this, and in the next succeeding ballad, entitled "The Golden Farmer's Last Farewell," we find those " HangingVerses" which for several hundred years have won favour among the lower classes. Histories of pirates and buccaneers, highwaymen and footpads, even retty shoplifters and "a tame Cheater" (such as Ancient Pistol was declared to be, and no "Swaggerer"), continued to find an attentive circle of readers

1 This ballad is cleverly wrought, and mirth-provoking by its adaptation of a serious subject (Lord Wm. Russell's trial, 1683) to such a merry tune. We give the first verse here:

Oh, the mighty Innocence of Russel, Bedford's Son!

That dy'd for the Plot, Whether Guilty or not,

By his last (Equivocating) Speech!

"By the words of a dying Man, I here protest I know no Plot
'Gainst the life of the King, or Government,

Either by Action or Intent."

Fy, fy, fy, fy, fy, fy, my Lord,

What are you about to do;

To sink to Hell, By th' sound of your Knell,
Both Soul and Body too?