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Then all fecret advifers I loudly abus'd,

Through a certain young Gentleman's ear I'd infus'd
With a drug that one Shaftesbury formerly us'd.

The bill was thrown out; we remov'd from our quarters,
And our gang all refign'd with the fpirit of martyrs;
So the Company fav'd both their chattels and charters.
Now each day fome new bar to my project reveals,
A firm Miniftry prefently trod on our heels,
And Thurlow, that bane to my hopes, got the Seals.

But, what was ftill worfe, nay, a d-mnable thing,
The voice of the people, that once us'd to fing,
"God blefs Mr. Fox," now cry'd "God blefs the King."

1

Yet one comfort was left us, the Commons were ours;
So we mov'd that that Houfe muft include the three pow'rs,
And we voted Prerogative quite out of doors:

'Twas an obfolete right, and of courfe muft be wrong.
Mov'd, that friends to the King make no ufe of their tongue,"
ThatPeers are old women, and Pitt is too young."

Now, in fpite of addreffes, I ftill will go on,
Make terms of my own, if I can, or make none,
Whilft this fpirit of Chatham furvives in his fon.

PADDY QUINLAN's ADDRESS to CARLO KHAN.

Intended as a Baffo to Captain Morris's Ballynamona Oro. Sent from Cork its ownfelf, dated Patrick's Day in the Morning.

Dear Car,

Tune Larry Grogan.

IS it true

What I've long heard of you,

"The Man of the People" they call you, they call you!

How comes it to pafs

They're now grown fo rash,

At the critical moment to leave you, to leave you?

Oh! that curs'd India Bill,

Arrah why not be ftill,

Enjoy a tight place and be civil, be civil;

Had you carried it through,

Ough! that would just do,

Then their charters we'd pitch to the Devil, the Devil.

But Carlo, my Honey,

If you please, we'll be funny;

Many tricks (don't we know?) you have play'd 'em, have play'd'em;

With Refolve and Addrefs,

Because not in the mess,

Poor Billy, 'twas done for to plague 'im, to plague 'im:

3 H 2

"Fair

Fair and equal," 'tis true,

With Prerogative too,

You've bugbear'd the Houfe that you speak in, you speak in;
Since the people are gone

With Sam House to a man,

Never mind! tho' the Devil fhould take 'em, fhould take 'em.

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To your caufe! which they pitch to the Devil, the Devil.

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How fuddenly chang'd was your Noftrum, your Noftrum:
Euphorbium, I think,

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SAYS F-tk to F-x, "Oh how can we ate!
"By fafus you know we have both pawn'd our plate?"
Black Reynard replies, "We can have one good mcal,"
By filching from Thurlow his boafted Great Seal*”

The DEVIL take the Hindmoft.

WITH a borough before, and a bailiff behind,
See our Senators run as fast as the wind:

Then fcamper, ye bankrupts in fame and in purse,
For the lofs of a feat is a damnable curfe.

The NEW COALITION: Or, The FOX who had loft his TAIL, And the Vermin turn'd out of his Borough.

Set to the Jew's Harp.

To the tune of-A Cobler there was, &c.

SAYS Fox to old Ver-min, to avoid repetition

Of a favourite topic, I mean Coalition,

Here's my hand once for all, and I'll fully explain

Why North and I join'd, and why you'll join us twain.
Derry down, down, down, derry, &c.

In public, North tax'd with treafon and cheat;
Said, I'd make England poor to make myfelf great;
Said, I'd nothing to lofe, and only to gain
By cogging the dice-when old England's the main.
Derry down, &c.

He faid, tho' of honefty much I did lack,
Yet whilft Clubs did count--I was am of the Pack;
And as Old Noll of Huntingdon well did of yore,
Would beat King--if not beat'n Knave out o' door.
Derry down, &c.

The Great Seal is made of filver, and weighs about 61b.

I replied,

I replied, he did lofe half our empire and trade;

I fhow'd that his lofs by his folly was made;

I fhow'd 'twas his fcheme too, thefe realms to enslave;

So left it in doubt-if moft fool, or most knave.

Derry down, &c.

That himself he'd enrich'd, tho' the nation made poor;

Had his Cinque Ports, his penfion, his ribband, and whore;
Yet fome tendernefs fhow'd for the Venus his wife,

So Buthy Park gave her-then left it for life.

Derry down, &c.

Now all muft obferve, (for all do agree
In what I faid of him, and what he faid of me)
That a rafcal has right to call rafcal a brother,
And a g― had no right to make all this pother.
Derry down, &c.

A Temple to Charles faid (the Second) too rude,
"Be the Man of your People, and ftudy their good."
Such freedom of language I ftill must condemn,
For it ne'er can fuit us, tho' it may better them.
Derry down, &c.

My character known, it induc'd the good North,
After twelve years mistake to honour my worth:
So in public I'm his-but I'd plead private merit,
To have you, my friend, of congenial spirit.

Derry down, &c.

Pharo-dealer, ftock-jobber, can never be stranger,
Tho' mine more the profit, and your's more the danger,
I have all things to gain, you have nothing to lofe,
So dear, dear Lord Ver-min our bargain let's clofe.
Derry down, &c.

For the India Bill vote, you cannot but chufe,
'Tis a good vote of credit with all our old Jews,
And vote the Receipt Tax-you cannot fay nay,
For who takes a receipt-who has nothing to pay?

Derry down, &c.

Says good old Lord Ver-min, your reasoning is strong,
It hurries conviction and feelings along;

Take my hand and I'm your's, and the devil's-but tell
Irish Ned, that I think he's too bad e'en for hell.
Derry down, &c.

Poor Ver-min his borough ha'n loft, may ftill find,
Some earth of the Fox to keep off the wind;
And the Fox having loft his thick tail-may depend,
To keep his a— warm, on the fur of his friend.
Derry down, &c.

So Ver-min and Fox got in the fame hole,
To grabble and spatter, and stink and cajole;

And

And the first thing they can do to honour their worth
Is to keep them both there-and to ftop up the earth.
Derry down, &c.

No Ver-min we'll have in our Buckingham county,
We're for Freedom with law, and for Prudence with bounty,
We're for King and for people, and t'avoid repetition,
We're all to a man 'gainst the damn'd Coalition.

The

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FOX'S

Derry down, &c.

PROGRESS

WHEN firft young Reynard came from France,
He try'd to bow, to drefs, to dance,
But to fucceed had little chance,

The courtly dames among;
Tis true, indeed, his wit has charms,
But his grim phiz the point difarms,
And all were fill'd with dire alarms,
At fuch a beau garçon.

He left the fair, and took to dice,
At Brooks's they were not so nice,
But clear'd his pockets in a trice,
Nor left a wreck behind;
Nay, fome pretend he even loft
That little grace he had to boast,
And then refolv'd to feize fome poft,
Where he might raise the wind.

In politics he could not fail;

So fet about it tooth and nail;

But here again his ftars prevail,

Nor long the meteor fhone.

His friends, if such deserve the name,
Still keep him at a lofing game,
Bankrupt in Fortune and in Fame,
His day is almost done.

CARLO KHAN's Anfwer to PADDY QUINLAN's Addrifs.

Dear Paddy,

Tune-Larry Grogan.

'TIS true,

I've reason to rue,

That "The Man of the People," they dub'd me, they dub'd me;

Don't you think it was cruel,

In you, my dear jewel,

To mention the thing that fo drub'd me, fo drub'd me;

A tight

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