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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.