“THE WHIGS’ ADDRESS TO HIS MAJESTY.
“We who were never yet at quiet,
Lovers of Change, Disorder, Riot,
Old Sticklers for a Common-wealth,
(If you believe us) wish you Health,
A long, a safe, a prosperous Reign.
(The wicked Tories think we feign.)
We, who all Monarchy despise,
Hope to find favour in your eyes;
Think you a Protestant so hearty
As not to disoblige our Party,
And humbly beg, at any rate
To be Chief Ministers of State,
Or else your person we shall hate;
For tho’ Religion bears the name,
It’s GOVERNMENT is all our aim.
We’ll be as faithful and as just
As to Your Uncle, Charles the First;
Grant this request, your Cause we’ll own,
And ease the burden of the Crown;
Make it the easiest e’er was worn,
You’ll scarcely know you’ve any on.
But if (Great Sir) we find you slight us,
Ourselves can tell which way to Right us;
And, let you know, by sad disasters,
Tho’ you are Lord, yet we are Masters.
This truth you cannot choose but know,
We prov’d it sixty years ago;
Yet shall you find us now on Trial,
Your faithful subjects, OR WE LIE ALL!”
Disappointment, and a long spell of disfavour at Court, embittered the Tory wits, and lent a barb to those satirical shafts which they freely launched at their powerful opponents, the Whigs in office and in parliament.