Classic Poem

1.

Work now won't keep a man,
Though it once did;
Much less buy plate or can,
Pot, or pot lid;
Then, why do strangers reap
Here, where we die?
Bread's dear, and labour cheap;
Murder knows why.

2.

Mother laid up in bed;
Father in jail;
Mother's cheek very red,
Little Bob's pale;
Mary, with ghastly face,
Brought home to die:
William has lost his place —
Does not know why!

3.

What brings these evil days?
Farmer! know you?
" Steam Power! " my lady says;
" Therefore it's true. "
What would put evil down?
Tell, and we'll try.
" Plough over Sheffield town!
Sow it with rye! "