As needy gallants, in the scriv'ner's hands,
Court the rich knaves that gripe their mortgag'd lands;
The first fat buck of all the season'd sent,
And keeper takes no fee in compliment;
The dotage of some Englishmen is such,
To fawn on those, who ruin them, the Dutch.
They shall have all, rather than make a war
With those, who of the same religion are.
The Straits, the Guinea-trade, the herrings too;
Nay, to keep friendship, they shall pickle you.