If prying commissioners lend you a hand,
To the gulf that's beneath you, to tumble you in!
Then out with your ledger; 'tis true that you owe
Unto the assessor himself some hard cash;
But perhaps, after all, it is right he should know,
And sell you up first, lest he lose by your smash.
With America lately we've had a great fuss,
About right of search, and the boundary line;
But at home, in exerting the right upon us,
To keep within bounds the assessors decline.