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.