THE POETS DREAM[F. 69] 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 their Debauch'd Actions; Prescribed and Presented to the view of all People._ To the Tune of _Sawny_ &c. As I lay Slumbring in a Dream, [53.] methought the world most strangely went; The Bayliffs on High Seats was seen, which caus'd the Poor's great discontent. They pluckt true Justice from the Throne, erecting Laws made of their own, And burthen'd the Poor till they made them groan, _And that's the cause that the Land Complains_. Their Meeting house was an Ale-wives Bench, fix'd in a Street that is termed Old; Their Speaker was a Play-house-Wench both ---- and Thief, and a Devilish Scold. Shee'd guzzel Brandy, Wine or Ale, and then she'd at her Neighbours Rail, And send for the Bayliffs to have them to Jayl, _And that's the cause &c._ [Illustration] Methoughts a mighty hunting-match, was made by Bayliffs and their Currs: Poor men was the Deer they strove to catch, the Houses plac'd in the Room of Furrs:[F. 70] The Suburbs-Round, it was their Park, the Bayliffs yell, the Dogs did Bark, The Poor kept as close as Noah in the Ark, _And that's the Cause &c._ Then _Shephard_ and his Dog wheel'd up to th' right, and thunder'd by a Cursed Lane, And there the Villains wrought their Spight, for by them, once, was a poor Man slain. They Swear, before they'l ever lack, they'l go to Hell, a Pick-a Pack, And thus poor Debters they go to rack, _And that's the Cause &c._ There's Cursing _Will_ and Damme _Jack_, and Robbin _Tanner's_ alive agen, And Paunchgut _Tom_, (a Hellish Pack), with perjur'd _Dick_, and bawdy Ben: Which formerly on Earth did Dwell, and now they are return'd from Hell, And doth against our Laws Rebell. _And that's the Cause &c._ When I awaked from my Dream, methoughts the world turn'd upside down, And in great haste, I Writ this Theam, 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, who swear they ne'r will pay their Summs, Thus Poor in Flocks to the Jaylor comes, _And that's the Cause &c._ The Tallyman, Curmudgeon, keeps a Baylif and his Dog to Bite, If in their Books, men ever Creeps, they quickly swear they'l have their Right: So soon as e're they do Back-slide, the Torturing Jale they must abide Then _Toby_ and Dog's employ'd; _And that's the Cause &c._