Of Bawdes Poem by Robert Crowley
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Of Bawdes
The bawdes of the stues
be turned all out
But some think they inhabit
al England through out
In tauerns and tiplyng houses
many myght be founde
If officers would make serch
but as they are bounde
Well let them take heede
I wyll say no more
But when god reuengeth
he punisheth sore
An horrible thynge
it is for to fall,
Into that Lordis handis
that is eternall
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Poems By Robert Crowley
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5/7/2024 7:01:11 AM # 1.0.0.1119
