Where he march’d for a Place in the new-rais’d EXCISE.
Derry down, &c.
Ye National Schemers, come tell me, I pray,
Your Intention in this. To bring more Scotch in play!
For this must the Tax be enforc’d with all Speed,
For Thousands are coming between here and Tweed.
Derry down, &c.
Ah! hapless Old England, no longer be merry,
Since B— has thus tax’d your Beer, Cyder and Perry;
Look sullen and sad, for now this is done,