Gold, in this reign, he said, had fail’d
(For gold such patriots ever rail’d!)
Your flimsy notes, he cried, bely a King:
Old England was another thing,
When her great Monarch had a mint,
And stamp’d an image of himself, the money of the World!
The gaping mob admire the lofty sounds.
“Burdett and Bullion!” all the street rebounds:
With ravish’d ears
The Bar’net hears,