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JANE SHORE. |
199 |
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And sav'd his life, condemn'd to dye, Did give me food to succour me:
For which, by law it was decreed
That he was hanged for that deed; no
His death did grieve me so much more,
Than had I dy'd myself therefore.
Then those to whom I had done good
Durst not afford mee any food;
Whereby in vain I beggM all day, lis
And still in streets by night I lay.
My gowns beset with pearl and gold,
Were turn'd to simple garments old;
My chains and jems and golden rings,
To filthy rags and loathsome things. 120
Thus was I scorn'd of maid and wife, For leading such a wicked life; Both sucking babes and children small, Did make a pastime at my fall.
I could not get one bit of bread, 126
Whereby my hunger might be fed: Nor drink, but such as channels yield, Or stinking ditches in the field.
Thus, weary of my life, at length
I yielded up my vital strength, i»
Within a ditch of loathsome scent,
Where carrion dogs do much frequent:
114. restore. |
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