The POETS Dream:
OR, The Great Out-Cry and Lamentable Complaint of the LAND against
BAYLIFFS and their DOGS.
Wherein is Expressed their Villanous-Out-rages to Poor Men. With a True Description of their Knavery, and Debauch'd
Actions; Prescribed and Presented to the View of all People; To the Tune of, Sawny, etc.
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AS I lay slumbering in a Dream,
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Methoughts the World most strangely went;
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The Bayliffs on High Seats was seen,
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to Rule instead of a Parliament:
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They pluckt true Justice from the Throne,
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Erecting Laws was made of their own,
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And burthen'd the Poor till they made them groan,
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And that's the cause that the Land complains.
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Their Parliament-House was an Ale-Wives Bench,
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Fix'd in a Street that is termed Old;
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Their Speaker was an a Play-House-Wench,
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Both Whore and Thief, and a Devilish Scold:
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She'd guzzel Brandy, Wine, or Ale,
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And then she'd at her Neighbours Rail,
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And send for the Bayliffs to have them to Jayl,
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And that's the cause that the Land complains.
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Methoughts a mighty Hunting-Match,
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was made by Bayliffs and their Currs:
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Poor Men was the Deer they strove to catch,
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The Houses plac'd in the Room of Furrs.
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The Suburbs-Round it was their Park,
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The Bayliffs Yell, the Dogs did Bark,
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The Poor kept as close as Noah in the Ark;
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And that's the cause that the Land complains.
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Then Shepherd and his Dog wheel'd up t'th' right,
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And Thunder'd by a Cursed Lane:
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And there the Villains wrought their Spight,
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For by them once was a Poor Man slain.
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They Swear before they'l ever lack,
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They'l go to Hell a-Pick-a-Pack,
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And thus poor Debtors they go to rack;
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And that's the cause that the Land Complains.
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Their's Cursing-Will, and Damme-Jack,
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And Robbing-Turners Alive agen;
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And Paunchgut-Tom, (a Hellish Pack)
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With Perjur'd-Dick, and Bawdy-Ben,
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Which formerly on Earth did Dwell,
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And now they are Return'd from Hell,
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And doth against our Laws Rebell;
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And that's the cause that the Land Complains.
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When I awaked from my Dream,
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Methoughts the World turn'd upside down;
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And in great haste I Writ this Theam,
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For the Bayliff-Dogs of our Town:
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Who for their Prey each Hour do wait,
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Like Death at every Poor Man's Gate,
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And brings the Realm to a Dismal Fate;
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And that's the cause that the Land Complains.
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When Poor Men are out of Employ,
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And have not a Farthing in the World;
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The while their Wives and Children Cry,
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There's many are in a Prison hurl'd:
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Men are Enticed by the Bums,
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Who Swear they ne'r will Pay their Summs,
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Thus Poor in Flocks to the Taylor comes;
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And that's the cause that the Land Complains.
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The Tally-Man Curmudgeon keeps
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A Bayliff and his Dog to Bite;
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If in their Books Men ever Creeps,
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They quickly Swear they'l have their Right:
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So soon as e're they do Back-slide,
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The Torturing-Jayl they must Abide,
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Then Toby and his Dogs Employ'd;
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And that's the cause that the Land Complains.
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When Rogues are at Old-Bayly Burn'd,
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And that their Pilfering Trades do Fail;
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From Thieves to Bayliffs-Dogs have Turn'd,
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To Plague and Hurry the Poor to Jayl:
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How like Kid-Nappers all the Day,
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In every Corner they Survey,
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And quaff whole Bouls when they get their Prey;
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And that's the cause that the Land Complains.
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Ten Groat's the Fees, and a Crown the Arrest,
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And Three Round 000's for a Writ beside;
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Thus Laws are Broken, and Poor Men Opprest,
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Such Racking-Torments they must abide:
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And while the Prisoner sends for Bail,
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They tope the Brandy, Beer, and Ale,
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And makes him Pay, or they have him to Jayl:
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And that's the cause that the Land Complains.
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For Twenty-Shillings, Ten, or Five,
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They'l put a Man to a Cursed Charge;
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Or Run him to Jayl they'l soon Contrive,
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Where other Bills are Exprest at Large:
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The Jayl-Fees many are bound to Rue,
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The Garnish, Bed, and Turn-Key too,
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Expects an Unexpected Due:
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And that's the cause that the Land Complains.
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Your Moor-field-Mobbs, and Whetston-Whores,
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Has Bayliffs and their Dogs for Friends;
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When Lustful Youth Pays Venus Scores,
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Those Spunging-Pimps the House Attends.
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If Cullies Fight in a Drunken-Fit,
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Away goes Tobys-Dog for a Writ,
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Thus many Falls in the Bayliffs-Pit;
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And that's the cause that the Land Complains.
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'Tis Seldom a Bayliff or his Dog,
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Is ever known for to go to Church;
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As soon as they Hear the Word of God,
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They Leave the Parson in the Lurch:
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They Swear they'l come to Church no more,
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They lay their Sins to Adams Score,
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And Jaunts to Moorfields to a Whore;
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And that's the cause that the Priest Complains.
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Thus I Conclude and I end my Song,
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Desiring that you wou'd be Content;
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There's Christian-Peers that may Right our Wrong,
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When Heaven yeilds us a Parliament:
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I hope True Reason will Plead our Cause,
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While they'r Erecting Wholsome-Laws,
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They'l keep us from the Crocodills-Paws,
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And cease the Poor of the Lands Complaints.
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