 | Rogero-Mastir |  |
Thy flurt at Richardson, for taking pay
For what, as Clark, he writes, doth much bewray
Thy Folly and Injustice: Is't not fit,
Who works for others, should be paid for it,
And that by them, who him, to work, desire?
The Labourer is worthy of his Hire.
Have you no things, call'd Clerks? From whom, I pray,
Do your Apostate-Clerks obtain their pay,
Save from the Herd to which they do belong?
And is Reward due only to the Wrong!
Come, William, come; one Heav'n-instructed Scribe
Will weigh down all your Pharisaical Tribe.
For what, as Clark, he writes, doth much bewray
Thy Folly and Injustice: Is't not fit,
Who works for others, should be paid for it,
And that by them, who him, to work, desire?
The Labourer is worthy of his Hire.
Have you no things, call'd Clerks? From whom, I pray,
Do your Apostate-Clerks obtain their pay,
Save from the Herd to which they do belong?
And is Reward due only to the Wrong!
Come, William, come; one Heav'n-instructed Scribe
Will weigh down all your Pharisaical Tribe.
| Rogero-Mastir | |