For a little ill Fortune in Spain;
When by letting 'em Win,
We have drawn the Putts in
To lose all they are worth this Campaign.
Tho' Bruges and Ghent,
To the Monsieur we lent,
With Interest he soon shall repay 'em;
While Paris may Sing,
With her sorrowful King
De Profundis, instead of Te Deum.