Song CVIII., pp.353-354.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

THE sages of old, 

In prophecy told, 

The cause of a nation’s undoing; 

But our new English breed 

No prophecies need, 

For each one here seeks his own ruin. 

– 

With grumbling and jars, 

We promote civil wars, 

And preach up false tenets to many; 

We snarl and we bite, 

We rail and we fight 

For religion, yet no man has any. 

– 

Then him let’s commend, 

That’s true to his friend, 

And the church and the senate would settle; 

Who delights not in blood, 

But draws when he shou’d, 

And bravely stands brunt to the battle. 

– 

Who rails not at kings, 

Nor politick things, 

Nor treason will speak when he’s mellow; 

But takes a full glass, 

To his country’s success, 

This, this is an honest brave fellow. 

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