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Sir, what you call the good Old Cause,
‘Appears so full of Cracks and Flaws,
‘No Art nor Skill the same can solder,
‘It grows the crazier the older,
‘And now is put to a hard shift,
‘When Tories come to lend a lift,
‘And Kirk-dragoons are rais'd to back
‘The Gospel-work you undertake;
‘Besides the Revolution Foot
‘By standing long hath got the Gout,
‘And, prest with useless burden, maugre
‘All faint supports, begins to stagger;
‘The Kirk, which hath no more foundation,
‘But fickle people's inclination,
‘Whene'er the Mob begins to grumble,
‘The tottering Fabric down must tumble,

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‘And each convulsion of the people
‘Portends the downfal of the Steeple.”