CHORUS.
Religion abandon’d, morality dead,
Worth, honor, and honesty, from the land fled,
And eternity term’d only going to bed.
CHORUS.
Shall we follow France in each social band-breaking,
Eat bread bad and black of old Belzebub’s baking,
And sleep on French litter all quiv’ring and shaking?
CHORUS.
No, we’ve bread white and good, and fam’d English roast-beef,