WRITTEN UNDER THE FEAR OF BAILIFFS.
Reading edition
LAS! of all the noxious things That wait upon the poor, Most cruel is that Felon-Fear That haunts the “Debtor’s Door!” Saint Sepulchre’s begins to toll, The Sheriffs seek the cell— So I expect their officers, And tremble at the bell! I look for beer, and yet I quake With fright at every tap; And dread a double-knock, for oh! I’ve not a single rap!
