On the Decay of the Order

Once (it was in days of yore)
This our order flourished;
Popes, whom Cardinals adore,
It with honours nourished;
Licences desirable
They gave, nought desiring;
While our prayers, the beads we tell,
Served us for our hiring.

Now this order (so time runs)
Is made tributary;
With the ruck of Adam's sons
We must draw and carry;
Ground by common serfdom down,
By our debts confounded,
Debts to market-place and town
With the Jews compounded.

Once ('twas when the simple state
Of our order lasted)
All men praised us, no man's hate
Harried us or wasted;
Rates and taxes on our crew
There was none to levy;
But the sect, douce men and true,
Served God in a bevy.

Now some envious folks, who spy
Sumptuous equipages,
Horses, litters passing by,
And a host of pages,
Say, "Unless their purses were
Quite with wealth o'erflowing,
They could never thus, I swear,
Round about be going!"

Such men do not think nor own
How with toil we bend us,
Not to feed ourselves alone,
But the folk who tend us:
On all comers, all who come,
We our substance lavish,
Therefore 'tis a trifling sum
For ourselves we ravish.

On this subject, at this time,
What we've said suffices:
Let us leave it, lead the rhyme
Back to our devices:
We the miseries of this life
Bear with cheerful spirit,
That Heaven's bounty after strife
We may duly merit.

'Tis a sign that God the Lord
Will not let us perish,
Since with scourge and rod and sword
He our souls doth cherish;
He amid this vale of woes
Makes us bear the burden,
That true joys in heaven's repose
May be ours for guerdon.