England's Complaint: Or, the Nation's Abuse through Clipping and Coining.  
To the Tune of, When I was young, I had not Wit.  

I.  
CLippers and Coiners  
your Works are not right,  
The Curse of the Nation  
upon you will light;  
●●…r Clipping of Plate,  
and Coining of Dross,  
By which Rich and Poor  
hath come to much Loss.   

II.  
The Curse of the Merchants,  
who Credit doth give,  
Will light on your Jackets  
as long as you live;  
Who are forced to take Guineas  
at Value too high,  
Since Clipping and Coining  
good Money doth stry.   

III.  
The Curse of our Gentry,  
who Lands out do farm,  
Must likewise attend you,  
for they have some Harm,  
Who quite careless are  
their Kent's to call in,  
Since our Coin is composed  
of Brass, Iron, and Tin.   

iv  
The Curse of poor Tradesmen  
may make your Hearts ache,  
Who stands in their Shops  
good Money to take;  
And when they have sold,  
and comes to be paid,  
To receive one Half Crown  
their Hearts are afraid.   

V  
The Curse of poor Soldiers  
who fights for their Pay,  
And must take your Trash  
without saying Nay;  
Are many and grievous,  
and on you will rest,  
Since they amongst others  
thereby are oppressed.   

VI  
The Curse of our Sailors,  
or at least their poor Wives,  
Will light upon Coiners,  
who Mischief contrives;  
New Rings for their Fingers  
can hardly be had,  
Our Gold is so dear,  
and our Money so bad.   

VII.  
The Curse of all Alewives  
most heavy will light,  
Your Clipping and Coining  
doth them a great Spite;  
Such at your vile Actions  
in no wise can wink,  
Who must change a bad Shilling,  
or lose their good Drink.   

VIII.  
And above all the rest,  
the Curse of the Poor  
Will Coiners pursue,  
and lie at your Door:  
Who when they have wrought  
a long Summer's day,  
A Counterfeit Shilling  
is dropped for their pay.   

IX.  
With which their poor Wives  
to the Market doth hie,  
And many things cheapen  
before they can buy;  
The dread of false Coin  
doth Sellers surprise,  
That scarce one in Ten  
can believe their own Eyes.   

X.  
Were you all to be hanged,  
as some Coiners have been,  
Or burned at a Stake,  
it would be no sin;  
For the worst of High Robbers,  
I tell you what's true,  
Deserves much more favour  
than any of you.    

BRISTOL Printed by Will. Bonny, in Tower-lane.