Who prais’d each minister in power.
The fancy seiz’d! each noble peer,
Pushing the tankard foaming o’er:
(O had lord Umbrage but been here,
But we shall never see him more!)
Now fairly sat the sage divan,
And silence call’d to every box.
“Let’s thank our king, aye every man,
For turning out lord North and Fox.
We must confess it’s scarce seven years,