AN EXCELLENT NEW SONG,

ON A SEDITIOUS PAMPHLET. 1720.

(To the tune of " Packington's Pound.")

This ballad alludes to the Dean's "Proposal for the use of Irish Manufactures," for which Waters the printer was prosecuted with great violence. Lord Chief-Justice Whitshed sent the jury repeatedly out of court, until he had wearied them into a special verdict.]

BROCADOES, and damasks, and tabbies, and gauzes, Are by Robert Ballantine lately brought over, With forty things more: now hear what the law says, Whoe'er will not wear them, is not the king's lover. Though a printer and Dean,

Seditiously mean,

Our true Irish hearts from old England to wean, We'll buy English silks for our wives and our daugh

ters,

In spite of his deanship and journeyman Waters.

In England the dead in woollen are clad,

The dean and his printer then let us cry fye on; To be cloth'd like a carcase, would make a teague

mad,

Since a living dog better is than a dead lion.

Our wives they grow sullen
At wearing of woollen,

And all we poor shopkeepers must our horns pull in. Then we'll buy English silks, for our wives and our daughters,

In spite of his deanship and journeyman Waters.

Whoever our trading with England would hinder,
To inflame both the nations do plainly conspire,
Because Irish linen will soon turn to tinder,
And wool it is greasy, and quickly takes fire.
Therefore, I assure ye,

Our noble grand jury,

When they saw the dean's book, they were in a great fury;

They would buy English silks for their wives and their daughters,

In spite of his deanship and journeyman Waters.

This wicked rogue Waters, who always is sinning, And before coram nobis so oft has been call'd, Henceforward shall print neither pamphlets nor linen, And if swearing can do't shall be swingingly maul'd;

And as for the dean,

You know whom I mean,

If the printer will peach him, he'll scarce come off

clean.

Then we'll buy English silks for our wives and our daughters,

In spite of his deanship and journeyman Waters.

THE bold encroachers on the deep,
Gain by degrees huge tracts of land,
Till Neptune with one general sweep,
Turns all again to barren strand.

The multitude's capricious pranks,"
Are said to represent the seas,
Which, breaking bankers and the banks,
Resume their own whene'er they please.

Money, the life-blood of the nation,
Corrupts and stagnates in the veins, blu..

Unless a proper circulation,

Its motion and its heat maintains

Because 'tis lordly not to pay go budo
Quakers and aldermen in state, to obd
Like peers, have levees every day tie bowl d
Of dun's attending at their gate!

We want our money on the nail

The banker's ruin'd if he pays: Y

7

They seem to act an ancient tale, low rotang april The birds are met to strip the jays.

dedent yod level!

Riches, the wisest monarch sings,erotopiab "Make pinions for themselves to fly," an el

*This poem was printed some years ago, and it should seem, by the late failure of two bankers, to be somewhat prophetic. It was therefore thought fit to be reprinted.-Dub. Ed.

They fly like bats on parchment wings,
And geese their silver plumes supply.

No money left for squandering heirs!
Bills turn the lenders into debtors:
The wish of Nero now is theirs,

"That they had never known their letters."

Conceive the works of midnight hags,
Tormenting fools behind their backs:
Thus bankers, o'er their bills and bags,
Sit squeezing images of wax.

Conceive the whole enchantment broke;
The witches left in open air,
With power no more than other folk,
Expos'd with all their magic ware.

So powerful are a banker's bills,
Where creditors demand their due;
They break up counters, doors, and tills,
And leave the empty chests in view.

Thus when an earthquake lets in light
Upon the god of gold and hell,
Unable to endure the sight,

He hides within his darkest cell.

As when a conjurer takes a lease
From Satan for a term of years,
The tenant's in a dismal case,
Whene'er the bloody bond appears.

A baited banker thus desponds,
From his own hand foresees his fall
They have his soul, who have his bonds;
'Tis like the writing on the wall.

How will the caitiff wretch be scared,
When first he finds himself awake
At the last trumpet, unprepared,

And all his grand account to make!

For in that universal call,

Few bankers will to heaven be mounters; They'll cry, "Ye shops upon us fall! Conceal and cover us, ye counters!"

When other hands the scales shall hold,
And they, in mens' and angels' sight
Produc'd with all their bills and gold,

66

Weigh'd in the balance and found light !”’

UPON THE HORRID PLOT

DISCOVERED BY HARLEquin,

THE BISHOP OF ROCHESTER'S FRENCH DOG.

In a Dialogue between a WHIG and a TORY. 1723.

I ASK'D a whig the other night,

How came this wicked plot to light?

In Atterbury's trial a good deal of stress was laid upon the circumstance of a dog called Harlequin being mentioned in the intercepted correspondence. See Volume XII. p. 245, Note. The dog was sent in a present to the bishop from Paris, and its leg was broken by the way.