The Prisoner - David McWilliams

I am a poor prisoner arrested and tried

For a crime I committed and the law I defied

In hunger I stole some lord’s bread and wine

Was sat on his table that his household might dine

I was held by his bondsman as I left by the gate

Sayin' «Stand or I shoot on your head your own fate

You have robbed of my master his wine and his bread

And the fruit of your folly be on your own head»

«I was hungry» I cried «and what harm did I do

For your master has more than he ever will use?

And I have no money like he has to hand

Condemned by the law they have stolen my land»

He listened in silence but he paid me no heed

And no point in my pleading would he ever concede

So before judge and jury to pay for my crime

And to hope in their wisdom some pity they’d find

The judge found me guilty in all points of law

And vile implications from my case did draw

He called me a rebel, and then did conclude

He sentenced me seven long years servitude

And now I’m a prisoner though I know not why

In royal detention 'til the queen’s peace I buy

But no more I’ll be told, I’m unbonded and free

And when I am discharged a rebel I’ll be