Classic Poem

A flying Murtherer lay beneath a wall
That was all ruinous, and like to fall.
An Angel to him did in's sleep appear,
Bad him be gone, and lodge some other where
No sooner gone, but down the wall straight fell,
Then he thanks God, that he escap'd so well
The Angel said, Dost think I like thy deed,
Because from this destruction I thee freed?
Sins of this nature never scape my curse,
Thou'rt saved from this death, to meet a worse.