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| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. | SONG XLI. THE JUSTASS. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
| XLVIII. |
| XLIX. |
| L. |
| LI. |
| LII. |
| LIII. |
| LIV. |
| LV. |
 | The songs of Joseph Mather |  |
SONG XLI. THE JUSTASS.
When poverty puts off her habit of rags
She quickly turns tyrant and boasts of her bags:
'Tis always the case with the dung-hill bred train,
To give the community cause to complain:
The poor are oppress'd by their infamous deeds,
For what they take from them their luxury feeds.
I'll tell you an instance will wonder surpass,
The son of a baker is made a just-ass.
She quickly turns tyrant and boasts of her bags:
'Tis always the case with the dung-hill bred train,
To give the community cause to complain:
60
For what they take from them their luxury feeds.
I'll tell you an instance will wonder surpass,
The son of a baker is made a just-ass.
One Tuesday, behind a green table I saw
A grand ignoramus currupting the law,
I thought to myself 'twas a desperate case
To see a mule sit in a magistrate's place;
For want of a right cultivation at school
He acted like tyrant, and madman, and fool.
I ask'd what irrational rascal that was,
And found 'twas a baker's son turned a just-ass!
A grand ignoramus currupting the law,
I thought to myself 'twas a desperate case
To see a mule sit in a magistrate's place;
For want of a right cultivation at school
He acted like tyrant, and madman, and fool.
I ask'd what irrational rascal that was,
And found 'twas a baker's son turned a just-ass!
It was not by merit he rose from the mire,
Altho' he arriv'd at the pitch of a squire;
A wealthy old miser this upstart may thank,
Who rais'd him from indigence to this high rank.
It would be more proper for such a blackguard
To govern wild creatures, or be a bear-ward,
Than hector in court, while the men of his class
Spite the son of a baker turn'd to a just-ass.
Altho' he arriv'd at the pitch of a squire;
A wealthy old miser this upstart may thank,
Who rais'd him from indigence to this high rank.
It would be more proper for such a blackguard
To govern wild creatures, or be a bear-ward,
Than hector in court, while the men of his class
Spite the son of a baker turn'd to a just-ass.
He formerly travell'd the streets crying rolls,
With both stocking heels out, and shoes wanting soles;
But now the poor vagrant he'll send to knock hemp,
Forgetting his pedigree was of that stamp.
The people of Yorkshire will merrily sing
When upon a gibbet the rascal shall swing;
Jack Ketch is desirous to handle the brass,
For hanging the baker's son turned a just-ass.
With both stocking heels out, and shoes wanting soles;
But now the poor vagrant he'll send to knock hemp,
Forgetting his pedigree was of that stamp.
The people of Yorkshire will merrily sing
When upon a gibbet the rascal shall swing;
Jack Ketch is desirous to handle the brass,
For hanging the baker's son turned a just-ass.
| The songs of Joseph Mather | |