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	Tis party that destroys the state
	And makes an hubbub wild displace
	The order, that in
	Should shew its sober face

	The statesman's dream is full of fears
	That poor will trouble rich
	That France will lug us by the ears
	And roll us in the ditch

	But some are anxious to defend
	Their purses, & estates
	And That necks are will be infered to little more inclined worth to bend.

	To dictatorial sway.
	And purses open their mouths, The English, [gap] [gap] gold [gap] to lend,
	And To keep the dogs at bay.

That needles spindles, awls & staves, Must yield their place to arms, And swords & pikes & musket-balls.

	That gossips tongues, however so shrill
	To shallow fifes must yield,
	And lawyers change ^ drop their their parchment bill
	And drum sticks take in stead.