As Brooks's chairmen fit to wield Their stout oak bludgeons in the field, To aid our virtuous party. Mortals! no common voice you hear! * Militia Colonel, Premier Peer, Lieutenant of a County! I speak high things! yet, god of wine, For thee, I fear not to resign These Gifts of Royal Bounty. * Nil parvum, aut humili modo, Nil mortale loquar. Dulce periculum est O Lenæe sequi deum Cingentem viridi tempora pampino. No. XIX. MARCH 19. For the Authenticity of the inclosed Ballad, we refer our Readers to a Volume of MS. Poems discovered upon the removal of some papers, during the late alterations which have taken place at the Tax-Office, in consequence of the Reports of the Finance Committee. It has been communicated to our Printer by an ingenious Friend of his, who occasionally acts for the Deputy Collector of the Parish of St. Martin in the Fields; but without date, or any other mark, by which we are enabled to guess at the particular subject of the Composition. CHEVY CHASE. GOD prosper long our Noble King, Our lives and safeties all: A woeful story late there did In Britain's Isle befall. D-ke Sm-ths-n, of N-rth-mb-rl—nd, A vow to God did make; The choicest gifts in fair England, For him and his to take. "Stand fast, my merry men all," he cried, "And we will gain place, wealth, and power, "As Arm'd Neutrality. "Excise and Customs, Church and Law, "I've begg'd from Master Rose ; "The Garter too-but still the Blues "I'll have, or I'll oppose." "Now God be with him," quoth the King, "Sith 'twill no better be; "I trust we have within in our realm “Five hundred good as he." The Duke then join'd with Charley F—x, A leader ware and tried, And Ersk-ne, Sh-r-d-n, and Gr―y Throughout our English Parliament, They dealt full many a wound; Struck poor D-ke Sm-ths-n to the heart, In shape of Powder tax. "Yield thee, D-ke Sm-ths-n, and behold 66 " The Assessment thou must pay; Dogs, horses, houses, coaches, clocks, "And servants in array." "Nay," quoth the Duke, " in thy black scroll "Deductions I espye "For those who, poor, and mean, and low, "With children burthen'd lie. “And though full Sixty Thousand Pounds 66 My vassals pay to me, "From Cornwall to Northumberland, 66 Through many a fair countée; "Yet England's Church, its King, its Laws, 66 “Its cause, I value not, Compared with this, my constant text, "A penny saved, is got. "No drop of Princely P-rcy's blood, 66 Through these cold veins doth run; "With Hotspur's castles, blazon, name, "I still am poor Sm-ths-n. "Let England's youth unite in arms, "And every liberal hand "With honest zeal subscribe their mite, "To save their native land: "I at St. Martin's Vestry Board, "To swear shall be content, “That I have children eight, and claim "Deductions, Ten per Cent." |