“When shall our prayers end?”

I tell thee, priest, when shoemakers make shoes,

That are well sewed, with never a stitch amiss,

And use no craft in uttering of the same;

When tinkers make no more holes than they found,

When thatchers think their wages worth their work,

When Davie Diker digs and dallies not,

When horsecorsers beguile no friends with jades,

When printers pass no errors in their books,

When pewterers infect no tin with lead,