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 | Poems on Affairs of State |  |
Welcome, though late, dear George: here hadst thou bin,
We'd scap'd: (let Rupert bring the Navy in.)
Thou still must help them out, when in the mire;
Gen'ral at Land, at Plague, at Sea, at Fire.
Now thou art gone, see Beaufort dares approach,
And our Fleets Angling, as to catch a Roach.
Gibson farewel, till next we put to Sea:
Truth is, thou'st drawn her in Effigie.
We'd scap'd: (let Rupert bring the Navy in.)
Thou still must help them out, when in the mire;
Gen'ral at Land, at Plague, at Sea, at Fire.
Now thou art gone, see Beaufort dares approach,
And our Fleets Angling, as to catch a Roach.
Gibson farewel, till next we put to Sea:
Truth is, thou'st drawn her in Effigie.
| Poems on Affairs of State | |