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THE CORDELIER.
WHo ere's been at Paris muſt need know the (illegible text)eve,
The fatal retreat of th'unfortunate brave,
Where honour and juſtice moſt odly coatribute,
To eaſe heroes pain, by halter or gibbet. Derry, etc.
There death breaks the ſhakles which force had put on,
And the hangman completes what the judge had begun,
There the 'ſquire of the pad, and the knight of the paſt,
Find their pains no more baulk'd, and their hopes no
more croſt. Derry down, etc.
Great claims are there made, great ſecrets are known,
And the king, and the law, and the chief has his own;
But my hearers cry out, What a duce does thou all?
Cut off thy reflections, and give us thy tale. etc.
'Twas there then, in civil reſpect to harſh laws,
And for want of falſe witneſs to back a bad cauſe,
A Norman, though late, was oblig'd to appear,
And who to aſſiſt, but a brave Cordelier. Derry, etc.
The 'ſquire whoſe good grace was to open the ſcene,
Seem'd not in great haſte that the ſhow ſhould begin:
Now fitted the halter, now travers'd the cart,
And often took leave, but was loth to depart. etc.
What frightens you thus, my good ſon, ſaid the prieſt?
You murder'd, are ſorry, and have been confeſt.
O father! my ſorrow will ſcarce ſave my bacon,
For' twas not that I murderd, but that I was taken. etc.
Pugh! pritheen e'er trouble thy head with ſuch fancies;
Rely on the aid you ſhall have from St. Francis:
If the money ye promis'd be brought to the cheſt,
You have only to die, let the church do the reſt, etc.
And what will folk ſay, if they ſee you afraid?
It reflects upon me as I knew not my trade;
Courage, friend: To day is your period of ſorrow,
And things will go better, believe me, to-morrow.
