Friendless solicit hard a Hearing now,
Then stand a Haughty Judge's rigid Brow;
Ear-beat, without his Fee, a Lawyer dead;
In Forma Pauperis incessant plead.
Believe me, Sons, Experience is my Guide,
My self a Chapter sue'd, the Law defy'd.
Nor can the Bar shew that tremendous Look,
But I a hundred Times have stood its Shock:
Dauntless their forward Way my Body barr'd,
I'th' Church's Name demanding to be heard.
The Church was fruitful then in great Divines,
Souls forg'd by Nature for immense Designs.
Then Pennyless and Friendless we could go,
Farther than now for Love and Money too.
In those Triumphant Days, The vilest Head
A Prelate and a Chanter durst implead.
The World grows old, Time runs a jaded Race,
And worn-out Nature teems with her Disgrace.
If
