He gave to misery, all he pleased—a damn,
The law bestow’d, ’twas all he feared—a rope.
No further seek his villainies to know,
Nor bid me all his hateful libels tell,
For now with him they burn in fires below
And serve the cause of Faction still, in Hell.
A Parody.
The ruin spread by war is wisely o’er,
The grateful mob receive a peace with glee,
The drooping party cease their wonted roar,