Classic Poem

Sacheverell the learnéd,
Of wise men discernéd,
Had fairly got off with the peers,
But the bishops were cullied,
And all the lords bullied,
And none but poor ladies in tears.

Oh, England awake!
Thou has played thy last stake
And must part with old Paul to the Romans;
Both he and St. Peter,
In spite of my meter,
Must yield to a vote of the Commons.

When the mob gets up next,
Without canon or text,
To ding down those men of resistance;
Then Harry the doctor
Will prove a good proctor
And well you deserve his assistance.

You must trust to your guards,
Who their pay and rewards
Will value above reputation;
Then late you'll recall
Poor Peter and Paul,
When an army commands all the nation.

In vain you cry out
And keep such a rout
'Gainst Louis, the pope, and pretender;
'Tis obedience to laws
Must keep up the cause
Of the church and her glorious defender.

Then sure 'tis a jig
For the court to turn Whig
On a mystical point of expedience,
Whilst (O monstrous story!)
The mob turns Tory
And preacheth up Passive Obedience.