Wish upon Wish,  
or Dangerfields' Lamentation.  
Being a true relation, of a Discovery of all the Rogueries of Captain Dangerfield, who now is Close Prisoner in his Majesties Gaol of Newgate, for acting the D. of M. in several Countries in England.  
To the Tune of, The Old Man's Wish.  

Was I once again out,  
I would never come here,  
Nor never transgress  
Against King with a sear:  
And all Rogueries shun,  
With a Curse to my fate,  
And ne'er more concern  
With Church or with State.   

May I govern myself  
By an absolute sway,  
And grow wiser and better,  
Before I go away,  
Ambition and Faction  
I swear shall decay,  
Ambition and Faction  
I swear— shall decay   

A wooden Cravat  
ay believe I shall wear,  
And after a Rope  
Will come to my share.  
But I'll turn obedient  
To Prince and to State,  
And ne'er again shams  
From malice create.   

May I govern, etc.   

If Tyburn I miss  
I will grow more wise,  
And to the three Nations  
Be fully precise,  
And will do all  
The good that I can,  
And will turn from a Knave  
To a true Loyal man.   

May I govern, etc.   

Would my sins were accquitted,  
And liberty given,  
I'd forsake all fanatics,  
And thank my good Heaven.  
But now 'tis too late,  
My Rogueries known,  
In vain I do prate  
Now in Prison I'm thrown.   

May I govern, etc.   

O curse on their guilt  
That made me to swear  
Against honest men,  
That alive I wish were:  
I'd govern my hate  
With a pleasant new look,  
And my malice abate,  
And not swear on a Book.   

May I govern etc.   

To take a man's life,  
Wrongfully away,  
It is a bad act,  
For to swear wrong, I say:  
But a Curse me attend  
That did swear to a lie,  
But now I am in hold,  
And afraid I shall die.   

May I govern, etc.   

I wish I were dead,  
I should suffer no more,  
But now at the last  
I must pay a long score.  
The Popish Plot is in Newgate,  
O there he is laid,  
There, or at Tyburn,  
He must die, he's afraid.   

May I govern, etc.   

But now my sufferings  
Is like unto Oats,  
With grief I am perplexed,  
And am quite out of sorts.  
No M—th, no, no,  
No more i'll disguise,  
The Cloak, and the Star  
I'll leave off and be wise.   

May I govern, etc.    

LONDON, Printed for Absalon Chamberlain.