At once the ravens were discarded,
And magpies with their posts rewarded.
Those fowls of omen I detest,
That pry into another's nest.
State lies must lose all good intent,
For they foresee and croak th' event.
My friends ne'er think, but talk by rote,
Speak when they're taught, and so to vote.
When rogues like these (a Sparrow cries)