Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, A JOURNEY TO HELL: PART 3. THE PARISH POOR-OFFICERS, by EDWARD WARD


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

A JOURNEY TO HELL: PART 3. THE PARISH POOR-OFFICERS, by                    
First Line: These souls, my lord, assembled at the bar
Last Line: Shameful to own and scandalous to hear.
Subject(s): Christianity; Guests; Soul; Travel; Visiting; Journeys; Trips


THESE souls, my lord, assembled at the bar,
That look so bluff and seem so fat and fair,
Were, upon earth, appointed to secure
Their parish rights, and to subsist the poor,
By well dispensing to the needy crew
Those charities by gift or claim their due,
That what good Christians for their succour spared
Might be amongst the hungry wretches shared.
Instead of this they basely proved unjust,
Filled their own bags, and falsified their trust;
Drowned half the parish charity in wine,
To fill the guts of the insatiate swine;
Could never meet, or public business do,
Without canary and a fowl or two;
Nor end the meanest trifle in debate
Without the pleasures of a tavern-treat.
If some poor crazy almsman, lame or sick,
Decreed to starve on ninepence for a week,
Petitioned these proud masters of the poor
To make the scanty sum but threepence more,
So many tavern consults must be held,
Before they to the pauper's suit would yield,
That pounds in wine of the poor's money flew,
Ere the dull sots determined what to do.
At last, perhaps, 'twas gen'rously agreed
He should have half the sum to serve his need;
Three halfpence weekly added to his store
To keep the wretch still miserably poor,
That want and sickness, meeting with old age,
Might hurry his starved carcase off the stage,
When due subsistence might his life preserve;
But 'twas their will that all the poor should starve,
For ev'ry one they hastened to the grave,
Themselves, not parish, did their pensions save.
Thus on the poor's just dues they swilled and fed,
And were their lords alive, and heirs when dead.
When Mars and Venus in conjunction were,
And, by their influence, moved some wanton pair
To taste love's joys without the parson's leave,
And mutual pleasures to each other give:
If the kind lass, too forward in her lust,
Received the blessing with too great a gust,And in nine months brought forth a
girl or boy,
The squalling fruits of their unlicensed joy,
Such a discov'ry proved a gainful matter
To there, the plagues of each poor fornicator;
Who the kind welcome news no sooner heard,
But the stern lobcocks in a gang appeared,
And, with their awful frowns and woeful threats,
Frighted the female sinner into fits:
Who, coming to her foolish self again,
Declares the father, where 'twas got, and when,
How many times she'd sinned, and what he said
To coax her to resign her maidenhead;
Whether the gem upon a bed was lost,
Or standing with her rump against a post;
Whether her kind consent was fairly won,
Or if the pleasing job by force was done;
Whether fair promises her heart ensnared,
Or money gained admission to her beard;
What she first thought on't, how she liked the sport;
Whether it pleased her well, or if it hurt;
Whether she cried, or had a greater will,
When once engaged, to struggle or lie still;
And whether, when attacked in love's surprise,
She opened not her legs, but shut her eyes.
Thus each old bawdy sot, with ruby face,
In gold-twine buttons and a band of lace,
Would take his turn th' offender to torment
With questions fulsome and impertinent:
Thus listen with a lank, lascivious car
To bawdy secrets told them out of fear,
Shameful to own and scandalous to hear.





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