for the Bayliffs Doggs of our Town;
Who for their Pray each hour doe wait,
like Death at every poor Man's Gate,
And brings the Realm to a Dismal fate.
And that's the Cause &c.
When Poor men are out of Employ
and have not a Farthing in the World,
The while there Wives and Children cry,
there's many are in a Prison hurl'd:
Men are enticed by the Bumms,