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Last night I dreamt I stood upon the scaffold there to die
Dressed in all my finery to bid this world goodbye
The hangman stood before me in the black hood of his trade
Commended by the magistrate for the stout noose that he'd made

His eager young apprentice then stepped back to bind my wrists
Urged on by the restless mob who jeered and shook their fists
Hawkers cried of hot meat pies, of gibbets and of gin
As ladies strained for a better View, all anxious to begin

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Hangman, hangman ten gold crowns gladly will I give thee
Hangman, hangman ten gold crowns if you will only spare me

The undertaker and the judge hunched like two black crows
Sat aside my coffin as they gambled for my clothes

And when at last I did awake and shook myself from sleep
I lay in rusted prison chains with the Chaplain at my feet
"Arise my son" he said at length "and walk awhile with me
The hour it grows late I fear and the hangman waits for thee"

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