And lice by night torment ye,
’Tis to remind you oft to pray,
And of your sins repent ye.
At parching lips when you repine,
And when your belly hungers,
You covet what, by right Divine,
Belongs to Borough-mongers.
Let dungeons, gags, and hangman’s noose,
Make you content and humble,
Your heav’nly crown you’ll surely lose