I the scriptures have fulfilled
Though a wicked life I led
When the naked I beheld
I've clothed them and fully fed;
Sometime in a coat of winter's pride,
Sometime in one of russet grey,
The naked I've clothed and the hungry I've fed
And the rich I've sent empty away.
Yes they call me a highwayman, and a bandit too
A savage ruffian without any face.
Though they see me bad and worthless through and through
I take and give with good grace
Yes they call me a highwayman, and a bandit too
A savage ruffian without any face.
They see me and they call out such a hullabaloo
They'll meet me again some place.
He was a wild and wicked blade
On the highroad did he hie
But at last was tried and cast
And condemned he was to die.
When before the Judge he came
And at the Bar he did stand
For no pardon he did ask
But boldly he held up his hand
Declared to truth before the Judge
Who was to try him then-
I hope my Lord you'll pardon me
I'm not the worst of men
CHORUS
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem