Classic Poem

I once conjectur'd that those tygers hard
To reverend Newmans bones would have regard,
But were all SAINTS they met twere all one case,
They have no rev'rence to an Angels face:
But where they fix their griping lions paws
They rend without remorse or heed to laws.
Rehoboth here in common english, Rest
They ransack, Newmans Relicts to molest.
Here all the town is made a publick stage
Whereon these Nimrods act their monstrous rage.
All crueltyes which paper stain'd before
Are acted to the life here ore and ore.