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152

Without reproach of loselry,

How mean soe’er that craft may be.

Then some through sickness or old age,

Or tender years, may not engage

In labour, they no touch of shame

Need feel if alms or doles they claim.

And then again some men we see,

Who in their time too jollily

Have lived, and now beside the way

Must seek poor pittance day by day;

Such men are suffered graciously

To beg lest they of hunger die.

Or if a man should go about

To search some craft or science out,

But all his industry and skill

The work eludes, do what he will,

And no man doth employment give

Whereby he earns the means to live,

Then by mendicity may he

Contend with dire necessity.

Or some poor peasant carle, who drives

The plough, and bowed by labour strives,

His brow bedewed with sweat, to gain

Sufficiency, but all in vain,

Should not be blamed although he went

Begging around to supplement

His scanty wage.

Or those who spend

Their lives and fortunes to defend

The faith by force of arms, in heat

Or cold, or in the justice seat,

And then in old age find them poor,

’Tis well they be allowed to cure