Classic Poem

A curse attends that day we name Saint Monday,
Which sets our Valuebals away to pawn'd ay;
'Tis then at scittels all our drunken snobs,
Makes honest fock o'er aft neglect their jobs.
I know one kept Saint Monday, and did do
" The week before nine good pairs and a shoe,
" Saint Monday likewise summoned me to play,
" Since doom'd by Crispin sutters holyday,
" Tuesday one poor threepence I had got,
" To cure my acking head I took a pot,
" Wednesday morn by day (wild riggs I ran,)
" Off came my coat and shirt, and away to pawn
" Thursday on the repenting stool I sat,
" To point my awls and regulate my kit:
" Friday, in comes the master, and says, will I
" Allow my work a whole week to lye by?
Attending Coflin you yourselves undo,
Or Ingles or your Hunter's fam'd prise-shoe .
" Saturday in comes my landlord for his rent,
" Then I begin my follies to repent,
" With naked elbows and a coat thread bare,
" My wig it scarce affords a curl of hair. "
So for to hide my gold I need no bags ,
While like to rookry dogs I'm cloth'd with rags .