Their Villany to Monarchy,
'Tis makes 'em France deride:
If Hollanders wou'd choose a King,
As much as now their Praises Sing,
They wou'd Curse, and Damn, and Fling,
And cry they were Banter'd, &c.
I swear adsnigs, the Canting Whigs,
Have run their Knavish Race;
The Church and Queen, are Flourishing,
Now they are in Disgrace: