 | Songs, comic and satyrical |  |
THE BRITON's WISH.
Wou'd you know the way that Eve
In Eden was caught tripping,
Arch Satan 'twitch'd her by the sleeve,
And shew'd a golden pippin;
Tempted by the glitt'ring charm,
'Twas said she ill-us'd Adam,
And ever since the same alarm
Bewitches Miss and Madam.
In Eden was caught tripping,
Arch Satan 'twitch'd her by the sleeve,
And shew'd a golden pippin;
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'Twas said she ill-us'd Adam,
And ever since the same alarm
Bewitches Miss and Madam.
The dad of Danae was a dolt,
To lock a woman's will in;
A guinea shower burst each bolt,
Miss op'd her lap for filling.
Ask beauties, who for chapmen wait,
What 'tis they chiefly wish for,
They'll own, though most men take their bait,
'Tis only gold they fish for.
To lock a woman's will in;
A guinea shower burst each bolt,
Miss op'd her lap for filling.
Ask beauties, who for chapmen wait,
What 'tis they chiefly wish for,
They'll own, though most men take their bait,
'Tis only gold they fish for.
But why shou'd women bear the blame,
When men, both out and in, Sir,
Will gamble at the golden game,
Nor care they how they win, Sir?
Arts, Science, Office, Trade, confess
Mean mercenary dealings,
All reas'ning bipeds, more or less,
Shew selfish fellow-feelings.
When men, both out and in, Sir,
Will gamble at the golden game,
Nor care they how they win, Sir?
Arts, Science, Office, Trade, confess
Mean mercenary dealings,
All reas'ning bipeds, more or less,
Shew selfish fellow-feelings.
Election agents truth disgrace,
They've made this an unsound age;
To brothels brought fair Freedom's face,
And, Pandar-like, took poundage.
But henceforth Britons may we shew,
In bribes no more our trust is,
But nobly indepent go,
And only vote for Justice.
They've made this an unsound age;
To brothels brought fair Freedom's face,
And, Pandar-like, took poundage.
But henceforth Britons may we shew,
In bribes no more our trust is,
But nobly indepent go,
And only vote for Justice.
O Thou! from whom each blessing springs,
Earth, seas, and skies director,
To whom we owe the best of kings,
Be his, be our protector.
The tyrant, arm'd with terror's scourge,
Awes subject slaves t'approve him,
But free-born Britons bow to George,
For in our hearts we love him.
Earth, seas, and skies director,
To whom we owe the best of kings,
Be his, be our protector.
The tyrant, arm'd with terror's scourge,
Awes subject slaves t'approve him,
But free-born Britons bow to George,
For in our hearts we love him.
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Dear Liberty, celestial Fire,
Remain here unconsuming;
May that spark catch, from Son to Sire,
From age to age illuming:
For this is ev'ry Briton's song,
This all we wish to be boys;
Let life be short, let life be long,
But let that life be free, boys.
Remain here unconsuming;
May that spark catch, from Son to Sire,
From age to age illuming:
For this is ev'ry Briton's song,
This all we wish to be boys;
Let life be short, let life be long,
But let that life be free, boys.
| Songs, comic and satyrical | |