They saw in Britain’s cause a patriot stand,
The proud defender of his land,
To aw’d and list’ning senates speaking;—
But as his fingers touch’d the purse’s strings,
The chinking metal made a magic sound,
While hungry placemen gather’d fast around:
And he, as if by chance or play,
Or that he would their venal votes repay,
The golden treasures round upon them flings.