Classic Poem

To longe the Wise Commons have been in debate
About Money, and Conscience (those Trifles of State)
Whilst dangerous Greyvances daily increase,
And the Subject can't riott in Safety, and peace.
Unlesse (as agaynst Irish Cattle before)
You now make an Act, to forbid Irish whore.
The Cootes (blacke, and white) Clenbrazell, and Fox
Invade us with Impudence, beauty, and pox.
They carry a Fate, which noe man can oppose;
The losse of his heart, and the fall of his Nose.
Should he dully resist, yet wou'd each take upon her,
To beseech him to doe it, and engage him in honour.
O! Yee mercifull powers, who of Mortalls take Care,
Make the Woman more modest, more sound, or lesse fayre.
Is it just, that with death cruell Love should conspire,
And our Tarses be burnt by our hearts taking fire?
There's an end of Communion, if humble Beleavers
Must bee damn'd in the Cup, like unworthy Receavers.