All things be dear but poor Mens Labour;
Or, The sad Complaint of Poor People.
Being a true Relation of the dearness of all kind of Food, to the great Grief and Sorrow of many Thousands in this Nation.
Likewise, the uncharitableness of Rich Men to the Poor. This Song was begun at Worcester, the midle at Shrewsbury, the end at Coventry.
To the Tune of, Hold Buckle and Thong together.
KInd Country-men lissen I pray
unto this my harmless Ditty,
Observe these words which I shall say
for it is true the mores the pitty;
But chief to those that stand me by,
whether stranger, or my neighbour
I think here's none that can deny.
all things are dear but poor man's labour,
We find that Bread-Corn now is dear,
in every Town throughout this Nation,
The Rich now poor men will not bear
because Charity's out of fashion,
Poor men do work all day and night
for that which in it hath small sauour
A Loss of six pence is but [...].
[...]
Béef and Mutton is so dear
a mans weeks wages cannot buy it,
There's great complaints in every place,
all things are dear who can deny it,
But poor mens labour is too cheap,
and Trading's dead which makes times harder
That all their pains wont find them meat
all things, &c.
Chéese and Butter is so dear
you know it better than I can tell ye
Twould grieve a stony heart to hear
the poor complain thus for their belly.
And [...] dead,
[...]t find them bread
[...]
I'll makes my very heart to ake,
to hear poor people thus complaining,
For all their care and pains they take,
rich men the poor are still disdaining,
But let Rich Misers consider well
the poor, and show to them some favour
Or else their Souls will hang in Hell,
all things, &c.
In it not sad for Parents now,
to hear their Children for bread crying,
And has it not for them to give
although for food they lye a dying,
Poor little Babies they must fast,
although it grieves Mother and Father,
A bit of bread they cannot tast,
all things, &c.
To hear the many sad Complaints,
as I have heard in Town and City,
I think youd cry as well as I,
the Rich has for the Poor no pitty
For if they work now for Rich men,
theres some will kéep their Wages from them
And make them run to and agen,
Which makes the Poor cry fye upon them.
Farmers so covetous now they be,
their Corn they'l hoard for better profit
Although the Poor do fast we sée,
their grain they'l keep what ere comes of it
Whole Ricks of Corn stands in their yards
and scorns to shew the Poor some favour
For some do swear they do not care,
if things be dear, but poor mans labour.
A Rich man there was in Stafford-shire,
which is a Knave, i'me sure no better
He hop'd to sell his Corn so dear
e're long as Grocers do their Pepper.
When Wheat was sold for shillings ten
he would not Thrash, Fan, nor yet rake it
Let poor despair, he oft did swear.
heed keep it for a better market.
Too many their is of such base men,
all England round in Town and City,
They'l see the poor starve at their door
before they'l shew them any pity;
For some will make poor men to work,
all day and night for little favour,
For Rich men be, cruel we see,
all things be dear but poor mens labour.
But thanks to God' Corn falls apace,
and all things else that's for the belly,
Yet still it doth go bad with some
although they work full hard I tell you,
Six-pence a day, is now the pay
for a days work, and held a favour,
This must maintain Wife and Babes,
all thing be dear, &c.
So to conclude, lets be content
with what the Lord doth please to send us,
Let us our evil lives repent,
then in our woes God will defend us:
And let rich men be merciful
unto the poor stranger or neighbour,
For all do know, unto their woe
all things be dear but poor mens labour.
Printed for J Clark at the Bible and Harp in West-smithfield.