Cries Pox o'th' French-men, but methinks
It must go round to my Brother,
Which no Body, &c.
He's the only Citizen of Sence,
And Liberty is his Pretence,
And has enough of Conscience,
Which no Body, &c.
The Bully that next to him sat,
With a Green Livery in his Hat,
Cry'd what a Plague would the French be at,