And adverse to good legislation;
Therefore, propose (so runs our song)—
Exchequer bills and ventilation.
Oh! the artful Tories dear,
Oh! the dear and artful Tories;
They alone perceive, ’tis clear,
Taxes tend to England’s glories.
The Whigs became the poor man’s foe,
Mix’d ashes in his cup of sorrow;
Nor thought the pauper’s “lot of woe,”