Yet e’en these humbler vices to correct,
Old Tyburn lifts his triple front on high;
Bridewell, with bloody whips and fetters deck’d,
Frowns dreadful vengeance on the younger fry.
Their name, their years, their birth and parentage,
(Though doubtful all) the Ord’nary supplies;
Points out what first debauch’d their tender age,
And with what words each ripen’d felon dies.
For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey,
When to the dreadful tree of death consign’d,