Classic Poem

Not an hundred years since, when Elections went round,
Old Honour and Truth were in Burgundy drown'd;
The sons of Great Britain, both thirsty and wise,
Wide open'd their stomachs, but clos'd up their eyes.
Derry down, &c.

They were blind to true merit, let Party prevail,
And judgment no longer right balanc'd her scale;
In wine was fair freedom remember'd no more,
And cash kick'd old liberty out of the door.
Derry down, &c.

When the Candidate offer'd, they snatch'd at the coin,
Nor spar'd the brown bumper, nor venal sirloin;
Ate and drank when they could: 'twas concluded, my friends!
They might fast when the Candidate compass'd his ends.
Derry down, &c.

Let the case now be alter'd; let talents be try'd,
Let national virtue alone be your guide;
Let us scorn to be biass'd by party or pelf,
And vote for our country, forgetful of self.
Derry down, &c.

Let honour, let honesty, stand in your view;
To freedom be constant, to liberty true.
Let me tell you, my friends! the right nail you have hit;
If you fix on the man that's a friend to old Pitt.
Derry down, &c.

Let no low-minded motives your principles shake,
But weigh the case well, for your safety's at stake,
For him that has honour and truth for his plan,
Give your voices, my Boys! and it's S — — 's the man,
Derry down, &c.