Classic Poem

I am a poor prisoner condemned to die,
Ah woe is me, woe is me, for my great folly!
Fast fettered in irons in place where I lie,
Be warned, young wantons, hemp passeth green holly.
My parents were of good degree,
By whom I would not counselled be.
Lord Jesu forgive me, with mercy relieve me,
Receive, O sweet Saviour, my spirit unto thee.

My name is Hutton, yea Luke of bad life,
Which on the high way did rob man and wife,
Enticed by many a graceless mate
Whose counsel I repent too late.

Not twenty years old, alas, was I,
When I begun this felony.
With me went still twelve yeomen tall,
Which I did my twelve apostles call.

There was no squire nor baron bold,
That rode the way with silver or gold,
But I and my twelve apostles gay
Would lighten their load ere they went away.

This news procured my kinsfolk's grief,
They hearing I was a famous thief,
They wept, they wailed, they wrung their hands,
That thus I should hazard life and lands.

They made me a jailer a little before,
To keep in prison offenders store;
But such a jailer was never one,
I went and let them out every one.

I wist their sorrow sore grieved me,
Such proper men should hanged be.
My office there I did defy,
And ran away for company.

Three years I lived upon the spoil,
Giving many an earl the foil,
Yet never did I kill man nor wife,
Though lewdly long I kept my life.

But all too bad my deeds hath been,
Offending my country and my good Queen;
All men in Yorkshire talk of me
A stronger thief there could not be.

Upon St Luke's day was I born,
Whom want of grace hath made a scorn;
In honour of my birthday then,
I robbed in a bravery nineteen men.

The country weary to bear this wrong
With hues and cries pursued me long;
Though long I scaped, yet low at last,
London, I was in Newgate cast.

There did I lie with a grieved mind,
Although the keeper was gentle and kind;
Yet was he not so kind as I,
To let me be at liberty.

At last the sheriff of Yorkshire came,
And in a warrant he had my name.
Said he, " At York thou must be tried,
With me therefore hence must thou ride."

Like pangs of death his words did sound,
My hands and arms full fast he bound.
" Good sir," quoth I, " I had rather stay,
I have no heart to ride that way."

When no entreaty might prevail,
I called for beer, for wine and ale,
And when my heart was in woeful ease,
I drunk to my friends with a smiling face.

With clubs and staves I was guarded then,
I never before had such waiting men;
If they had ridden before amain,
Beshrew me if I had called them again.

And when into York that I was come,
Each one on me did pass their doom,
And while you lie this sentence note,
Evil men can never have good report.

Before the judges when I was brought,
Be sure I had a careful thought;
Nine score indictments and seventeen
Against me there was read and seen.

And each of these was felony found,
Which did my heart with sorrow wound.
What should I herein no longer stay,
For this I was condemned that day.

My death each hour I do attend,
In prayer and tears my time I spend,
And all my living friends this day
I do entreat for me to pray.

I have deserved long since to die,
A viler sinner lived not than I;
Oh friends, I hoped my life to save,
But I am fittest for the grave.

Adieu my loving friends, each one,
Ah woe is me, woe is me, for my great folly!
Think on my words when I am gone.
Be warned, young wantons, hemp passeth green holly.
When on the ladder you shall me view,
Think I am nearer heaven than you.
Lord Jesu, forgive me, with mercy relieve me,
Receive, O sweet Saviour, my spirit unto thee.