Young Morgan he be caught at last Her trials he is laying. And isn't it a pity that young man should die, Out of this world is going? Standing bold like John of Gaunt, The world will soon admire To see such a tall and swaggering blade All in my rich attire. Oh, such a tall and swaggering blade, All out for gold and plunder, With spirits co*ked and courage bold And a voice that's loud like thunder. After sweet meat there comes sour sauce Which sets my heart to weeping.
For now, alas, I'm tried and caused, Out of this world I am going. As I come through the city gate I heard some people talking: Young Morgan, he has confessed and lost, His friends must follow after. I heard it through St. Giles's pound, Through Newgate and the city. Oh, isn't it a pity that young man should die? He rides so high and pretty. But why should I refuse to die Now here or ever after? That Captain he lives on the van, His friends must follow after.