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Rh Where ne’er was heard the name of tick,
 * And bankrupt laws are quite unknown;

Or to some shop, by bucks abhorred,
 * Where to the longing pauper’s sorrow,

The cursed inscription decks the board
 * Of “Pay to-day and trust to-morrow.”

Or plunge me in the dungeon-tower;
 * With bolts and turnkeys dim mine eyes;

While, called from death by Marshall’s power,
 * The ghosts of murdered debts arise!

The easy dupes I’ll wheedle still,
 * With looks of brass and words of honey;

And having scored a decent bill,
 * Pay off my impudence for money.

D.