5
Through streets, broad-streets, and lanes also,
I robb'd Lords, Dukes, and Earls,
Myself in grandeur to maintain,
And to support my girls.
I never robb'd a poor man in my life,
But those of high character,
I robb'd nigh unto Turnham-green,
A revenue Collector.
Five hundred pounds I took from him,
And smiling it was ready,
A hundred guineas of bright gold,
I did return his lady.
Wherever I saw the distressed poor,
When poverty did grieve them
I always found my heart inclin'd,
By money to relieve them.
I laid upon the rich and great,
To rob the poor I scorned,
Unless that God prevents my fate,
In doom I now lie borned.
For straight in Newgate I'm confin'd,
And by the law convicted,
Tyburn-tree proves my destiny,
At which I am much affrighted.
