From England's Green and Pleasant Land 
  Robin Hickman

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  Pierrepoint

As the clock struck nine,
He entered the cell.
On the next strike he pinioned his arms,
Said follow me.
Between three, and five,
Stood him on the trap.
The hood and the noose,
And then stepped back.
The lever released,
With a whack!
The clock finished chiming nine,
The rope was still,
That was that.

Justice done.


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