A Ballad

While Prose-work and rhymes
Are hunted for crimes,
And things are — the devil knows how;
Aware o' my rhymes,
In these kittle times,
The subject I chuse is a ——.

Some cry, Constitution!
Some cry, Revolution!
And Politicks kick up a rowe;
But Prince and Republic,
Agree on the Subject,
No treason is in a good ——.

Th' Episcopal lawn,
And Presbyter band,
Hae lang been to ither a cowe;
But still the proud Prelate,
And Presbyter zealot
Agree in an orthodox ——.

Poor Justice, 'tis hinted—
Ill natur'dly squinted,
The Process—but mum—we'll allow—
Poor Justice has ever
For C—t had a favor,
While Justice could tak a gude ——.

Now fill to the brim—
To her, and to him,
Wha willingly do what they dow;
And ne'er a poor wench
Want a friend at a pinch,
Whase failing is only a ——.

Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.