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,