I.
Let great GEORGE his porkers bilk,
And give his maids the sour skim-milk;
With her stores let CERES crown him,
’Till the gracious sweat run down him,
Making butter night and day:
Well! well!
Every King must have his way;
But to my poor way of thinking,
True joy is drinking.
II.
BILLY PITT delights to prose,
’Till admiring Grocers dose;
Ancient Virgins all adore him,
Not a woman falls before him;
Never kissing night nor day:
Well! well!
Every child must have its way;
But to my poor way of thinking,
True joy is drinking.
III.
You too, HASTINGS, know your trade!
No vile fears your heart invade,
When you rove for EASTERN plunder,
Making Monarchs truckle under,
Slitting windpipes night and day:
Well! well!
Governors will have their way;
But to my poor way of thinking,
True joy is drinking.
A NEW SONG, ENTITLED MASTER BILLY’S BUDGET; OR, A TOUCH ON THE TIMES.
To the Turn of “A COBLER THERE WAS,” &c.
Ye boobies of Britain, who lately thought fit
The care of the state to a child to commit,
Pray how do you like your young Minister’s budget?
Should he take your last farthing, you never can grudge it.
Deny down, &c
A tax on your heads! there’d be justice in that;
But he only proposes a tax on your hat;
So let every ENGLISHMAN throw up his beaver,
And hollo. Prerogative BILLY for ever!
Deny down, &c
Not being much favour’d with female applauses,
He takes his revenge on their ribands and gauzes;
Then should not each female, Wife, Widow, or Miss,
To Coventry send master BILLY for this?
Deny down, &c
How oft has he told us his views were upright!
That his actions would all bear the test of the light!
Yet he sure in the dark must have something to do,
Who shuts out both day-light and candle-light too.
Deny down, &c
JOHN BULL’s house is tax’d, so he plays him a trick,
By cunningly laying a duty on brick;
Thus JOHN for his dwelling is fore’d to pay twice,
But BILLY hopes JOHN will not smoke the device.
Deny down, &c