FullReads

They had it solder’d closely down
And examined it o’er and o’er,
And they put it in a patent coffin
That he might rise no more.

For to carry him off in a patent coffin
Would they thought be but labour in vain,
So the Undertaker saw it bought of the maker
Who lives by St. Martin’s lane.

In his brother’s church they buried him
That safer he might be,
They lock’d the door and would not trust
The Sexton with the key.

And three men in the vestry watch
To save him if they can,
And should he come there to shoot they swear
A resurrection man.

And the first night by lanthorn light
Thro’ the church-yard as they went,
A guinea of gold the sexton shewed
That Mister Joseph sent.

But conscience was tough, it was not enough
And their honesty never swerved,
And they bade him go with Mister Joe
To the Devil as he deserved.

So all night long by the vestry fire
They quaff’d their gin and ale,
And they did drink as you may think
And told full many a tale.

The second night by lanthorn light
Thro’ the church-yard as they went,
He whisper’d anew and shew’d them two
That Mister Joseph sent.

The guineas were bright and attracted their sight
They look’d so heavy and new,
And their fingers itch’d as they were bewitch’d
And they knew not what to do.

But they waver’d not long for conscience was strong
And they thought they might get more,
And they refused the gold, but not
So rudely as before.

So all night long by the vestry fire
They quaff’d their gin and ale,
And they did drink as you may think
And told full many a tale.

The third night as by lanthorn light
Thro’ the church-yard they went,
He bade them see and shew’d them three
That Mister Joseph sent.

They look’d askance with eager glance,
The guineas they shone bright,
For the Sexton on the yellow gold
Let fall his lanthorn light.

And he look’d sly with his roguish eye
And gave a well-tim’d wink,
And they could not stand the sound in his hand
For he made the guineas chink.

And conscience late that had such weight,
All in a moment fails,
For well they knew that it was true
A dead man told no tales,

And they gave all their powder and ball
And took the gold so bright,
And they drank their beer and made good cheer,
Till now it was midnight.

Then, tho’ the key of the church door
Was left with the Parson his brother,
It opened at the Sexton’s touch–
Because he had another.

And in they go with that villain Joe
To fetch the body by night,
And all the church look’d dismally
By his dark lanthorn light.

They laid the pick-axe to the stones
And they moved them soon asunder.
They shovell’d away the hard-prest clay
And came to the coffin under.

They burst the patent coffin first
And they cut thro’ the lead,
And they laugh’d aloud when they saw the shroud
Because they had got at the dead.

And they allowed the Sexton the shroud
And they put the coffin back,
And nose and knees they then did squeeze
The Surgeon in a sack.

The watchmen as they past along
Full four yards off could smell,
And a curse bestowed upon the load
So disagreeable.

So they carried the sack a-pick-a-back
And they carv’d him bone from bone,
But what became of the Surgeon’s soul
Was never to mortal known.