Classic Poem

But mark what he did
For to get to his station:
He told a damned lie
In the ear of the king.
Then a shite on his name,
For I'm all for the nation,
So don't bother me
With the name of the thing.
His taxes now prove
His great love for the people,
So wisely they're managed
To starve the poor souls.
Sure the praise of the man
Should be rung in each steeple
That would rob them of daylight,
Of candles and coals…