University of Virginia Library

The Hands and Feet in Council met,
Were mightily upon the Fret,
And swore 'twas something more than hard,
Always to work without reward.
The Feet said, truly its a Jest,
That we should carry all the rest;
March at all Hours thro thick and thin,
With Shoes that let the Water in;
Our Nails are hard as Bullock's Horns,
Our Toes beset with plaguy Corns;
We rais'd four Blisters th'other Night,
And yet got not a farthing by't.
Brothers, reply'd the Hands, 'tis true,
We know what hardship's y' undergo;
But then w' are greater Slaves than you;
For tho' all day we scrape and rake,
And labour till our Fringers ake;
Tho' we've been ply'd at every thing;
Yet then, without considering
What pains or weariness we feel,
W' are forced to serve at every meal,
And often, whilst you're set at ease,
Drudge to the Knucles up in Grease;
As for your Coins and Nails in troth,
We have the trouble of cutting both.
Take this not, Brothers, in a sence,
That might create a Difference;
We only hinted it, to shew
We 're full as badly us'd as you;
Our Grievances are general,
And caused by him that swallows all;
The ungrateful Belly is our bane,
Whom with our labour we maintain;
The ill natured'st Rogue, that e'er was fed,
The lazy'st Dog, that lives by Bread.
For him we starve; for what d'ye think
Becomes of all the Meat and Drink?
'Tis he, that makes us look so thin,
To streteh his everlasting Skin;
Tho' we do all his Business,
What did he ever give to us?
And therefore let my Lord Abdomen
Say what he will, we'll work for no Man.
Nay if we scratch him tho' he itches,
Calls us a hundred Sons of Bitches.
And, if you do the same, you'll see,
He'll quickly be as lean as we;
What say ye, Brothers, do y' agree?
Yes, says the Feet, and he be curst,
That dares to think of stirring first.
And thus the Rebels disobey;
Who swear they'll now keep Holy-day,
Resolv'd to live like Gentlemen.
His Gutship calls and calls again,
They answer'd they would toil no more;
But rest as he had done before:
But soon the Mutineers repent;
The Belly when his Stock was spent,
Could not send down the Nourishment,
That's requisite for every part;
The weakness seiz'd the drooping Heart:
Till all the Members suffer'd by't,
And languished in a woeful plight:
They saw, when 'twas too late, how he,
Whom they accused of Gluttony,
Of Laziness, Ingratitude,
Had labour'd for the common Good,
By ways they never understood.

The Moral

The Belly is the Government,
From whence the Nourishment is sent,
Of wholesome Laws for mutual Peace,
For Plenty, Liberty, and Ease,
To all the Body Politick,
Which where it fails the Nation's sick.
The Members are the discontent
Pleibeians; that are ignorant,
How necessary for the State
It is, that Princes should be great:
Which, if their Pomp and Pow'r were less,
Could not preserve our Happiness.
The Vulgar think all Courts to be
But Seats of Sloth and Luxury;
Themselves, but Slaves compell'd to bear
The Taxes, and the Toils of War;
But in this Fable they may see
The dismal Fruits of Mutiny;
Whilst Subjects, that assist the Crown,
But labour to maintain their own.