The Old that knew this Passage,
And what Commission he bore,
A jolly Lad, with a Message,
To contradict it sent o'er:
Another Packet he wore,
Five Hundred Pounds was his Fee,
It should have been as much more,
Come agree to that, Mizers, agree.
Ye jarring Powers that rule us,
What foolish doings are here?
Whilst these two Factions fool us,
No honest Man can appear,
No Major be chose for the year,
But that some Trick in't will be,
Nor Knight can stand for the Shire,
Come agree, ye rich Cuckolds, agree.
What hopes to have free Senates,
Whilst you are playing this Game,
And bribe the Boors and Tenants
Thro' Spite, each other to tame:
The Church too, Faith, has a Maime,
Whilst Whiggs, and High Tories there be;
Reform, reform then for shame,
And agree, ye rich Cuckolds, agree.
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