Classic Poem

In former Days, by Wrongs oppress'd,
The injur'd Subject eas'd his Breast,
Before his Monarch's Throne;
Complain'd, in what he was aggriev'd,
Was heard with Patience, and reliev'd,
Soon as his Case was known.

2.

But now, avoided by the Croud,
The hapless Wretch, is scarce allow'd
The Privilege to speak;
Are you but deem'd unfortunate,
'Tis criminal amongst the Great,
They shun you, for it's sake.

3.

O'er-whelm'd with Sorrow, seek not Friends,
For with thy Fortune, Friendship ends,
Th' attractive Meteor fled:
Infectious Want creates Disdain,
Unpitied you may e'er remain,
And with Affliction wed.

4.

No kindly, charitable Hand,
Is stretch'd to save you, while you stand
On Ruin's dreadful Brink;
Your Danger is not felt or known,
They stop their Ears, nor hear you groan,
While with your Load you sink.

5.

Oh! happy Time, oh! blissful Day,
When from the Throne, a kindly Ray
Of Pity chear'd the Heart;
When Kings cou'd judge the stated Cause,
Decide with Justice, force the Laws
To take the Mourner's Part.