Poem by John Heywood

A Prisoner

In prison, a prisoner condemned to die, 
And for execution waiting daily, 
In his hands for worms looking on a day, 
Smiling to himself these words did say: 
“Since my four quarters, in four quarters shall stand,   
Why harm I these seely worms eating my hand?
Nought else in this deed do I, but myself show 
Enemy to the worm and friend to the crow.”

1. Of Holding an Inn
2. Of a Hand-gun and a Hand
3. Of Treading a Shoe Awry
4. Of Dogs and Thieves
5. Of a Lanthorn and Light

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