Swearing they ne’er shall print another bill,
When those for whom they puffed are thus puffed out.
O Fred’rick Robinson, thou man of death!
Our scanty pittance why should you begrudge it?
Why—oh! why thus in dungeon stop our breath,
And shut us cruelly from out thy budget?
What was it seem’d offensive in thine eyes,
And gave thine act a plausible pretence?
Say—didst thou think the selling a large prize