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A Ballad on the Poll-Act.
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Poems on Affairs of State | ||
A Ballad on the Poll-Act.
A Poll and Land-Tax are now coming forth,
For our Deliverance they travel in Birth,
But 'tis to pay for a thing more than it's worth,
Which no body can deny.
For our Deliverance they travel in Birth,
But 'tis to pay for a thing more than it's worth,
Which no body can deny.
To pay our just Taxes was once thought too much,
But now Extraordinary Charity is such,
We bankrupt our selves for maintaining the D---;
Which, &c.
But now Extraordinary Charity is such,
We bankrupt our selves for maintaining the D---;
Which, &c.
401
A Tax for the Land, and a Poll for the Head,
In this both the Houses justly agreed,
For our Estates and our Heads are all forfeited;
Which, &c.
In this both the Houses justly agreed,
For our Estates and our Heads are all forfeited;
Which, &c.
If we tax or poll on for a Year or two more,
The French I dare say will ne'er touch on our Shore,
For fear of the Charge of maintaining the Poor;
Which, &c.
The French I dare say will ne'er touch on our Shore,
For fear of the Charge of maintaining the Poor;
Which, &c.
Seeing nothing is done, for a Quarterly Poll
Is like taking Physick which gives one no Stool,
Make the Doctor a Knave, and the Patient a Fool;
Which, &c.
Is like taking Physick which gives one no Stool,
Make the Doctor a Knave, and the Patient a Fool;
Which, &c.
Since it is for Religion we make such ado,
There's no way to prove our Pretensions true,
Like parting with our Gold and Consciences too.
Which no body can deny.
There's no way to prove our Pretensions true,
Like parting with our Gold and Consciences too.
Which no body can deny.
Poems on Affairs of State | ||