Twenty millions and more we have fix’d on your backs.
’Twas gammon—’twas humbug—’twas swindle! for, lo!
We undo all we’ve done—we go trade in the blacks.
Your humanity Whigs!—anti-slavery Whigs!
Then, shout, &c.
When to Office we came, full two millions in store
We found safe and snug. Now, that surplus instead,
Besides having spent it, and six millions more,
Lo! we’re short, on the year, only two millions dead.
That’s the “go” for your Whigs—your retrenching old Whigs