Robert Copland

"And as we talked, there gathered at the gate People, as me thought, of very poor estate, With bag and staff, both crooked, lame and blind, Scabby and scurvy, pock-eaten flesh and rind, Lousy and scald, and pillèd like as apes, With scantly a rag for to cover their shapes, Breechless, bare-footed, all stinking with dirt, With a thousand of tatters drabbling to the skirt, Boyes, girles, and luskish strong knaves, Diddering and daddering, leaning on their staves."