A paupers song

To complete my little series of Clare's 'political' posts, a poem I discovered in the Peterborough Archive a few months ago.  As far as I know entirely unknown, but WHAT a message, not only for his own time, but for our times too.   How familiar it is.

They give me eight pence by the day

& make it up at night

With six pence worth of parish pay

& can ye call it right

Im going to justice just to see

What she will have to say

& faith I doubt I shall not see

Yer honour there today

No friend I am a faithful mate

To justice but ye mean

What may be named a magistrate

& there Im never seen

Nay they have stopt me when Ive gone

To take that weight away

& backed deceptions wrong        
To take your gains away

Pet MS B6 p166

Also contains a great aphorism for this week especially... "& backed deceptions wrong to take your gains away"