A Royal Salute of 21, from Snob-Hall.
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POP 1.
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O, Bless my poor heart, when I think on a king,
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How far a poor Snob is from such a fine thing!
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With wonder I stare, when for certain I hear,
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The station requires a round million a year.
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POP 2.
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How happy am I, that it is not my fate,
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To be crushd with the weight and the care of a state!
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Nor could I a million require with a grace,
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Till with the brass pan I had well rubbd my face.
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POP 3.
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I am sure that the King has enough for to do,
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To take care of himself, and to care for us too;
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With wisdom and care how his brains he must rack,
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Ah, the scull must be thick, or Im sure it would crack.
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POP 4.
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Tis an excellent plan---King, Commons, and Lords;
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And many an excellent place it affords;
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Should matters the Lords and the Commons oerwhelm,
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Weve a Solomon then to take hold of the helm.
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POP 5.
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Parading abroad, how the multitudes gape,
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When at home all around him palaver and scrape.
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We robe him, we feed him; before him we fall,
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And what is it for?---I say nothing at all.
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POP 6.
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To save a few millions who would be so strange,
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A Monarchy for a Republic to change.
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OEconomy shines in Republicks, I know,
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But monarchy makes us a galantee show.
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POP 7.
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Supporting of Kings, and their prodigal race,
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Republicans say, is a pick-pocket case;
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In ruling a people they say they dont want em,
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That all their parade is no more than a phantom.
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POP 8.
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Come, honest Republican, tell me downright,
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Are you sure we are wrong, and clear you are right?
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When with plenty of gold weve adornd the Kings station,
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Do you count him no more than the Doll of the nation?
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POP 9.
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We can do without him, no doubt we can have,
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And more than a million a year we might save.
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But whats that among us---neer mind it I say,
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When he goes to the House we shall have an huzza!
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POP 10.
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If I were a King, and had too the gold,
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Id honestly say, my dear boys, ye are foold,
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I shall go to my stall, to be useful I choose,
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And there I can knobble and cobble your shoes.
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POP 11.
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Twenty millions a year we draw in, I suppose;
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But tis not a poor cobler can tell where it goes.
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Our long-headed Statesmen can tell where it rolls;
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I am here my with my awl to tra[n]slate their bad souls.
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POP 12.
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The national cash, I will venture to say,
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By Statesmen and Kings, has been squanderd away.
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But our King, without doubt, with Pitt and Dundas,
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As long as they rule, will take care of the BRASS.
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POP 13.
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The cowardly Statesmen of Louis the King,
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Dispersed and left him, for fear they should swing:
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But if the Republican Boys should come hither,
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I hope our good Statesmen will all hang together.
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POP 14.
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Tho a Cobler, Im not to be feard, you shall know,
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Like a child at a pit, or some great buggaboo,
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The world upsidedown is not yet come to pass,
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To be bridled, and whipt up by any Jack Ass.
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POP 15.
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I have nothing to give to Reeves contribution,
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No firelock or pike to alarm Constitution:
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But he that would press down the poor till they groa[n]
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Id beat him like leather upon my lapstone.
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POP 16.
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Against the Republic of France, many knaves
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Are combind, and the Despots have led out their slaves:
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Great Belzebub joins them to fight for the Pope,
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For all are afraid they have had out their scope.
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POP 17.
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You see the fine lads are all got in a pet;
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The Republican potion it gives them a sweat;
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So Puffey at last is come out of the bag,
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And Monarchys only a National Hag.
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POP 18.
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We ought to believe when the Bishops advance,
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No honour, no rule, no religions in France:
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These FALLALS they tell us, as grave as a parrot,
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To be sure, Sir, they blush---but tis only with claret.
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POP 19.
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The gabies among us most terribly stare
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At the horrible things the high Statesmen declare,
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The monstrous relations (as true as Tom Thumb)
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They gobble and swallow as clean as a plumb.
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POP 20,
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Our famd Constitution cry out the rare fellows;
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What wonderful news these philosophers tell us!
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The Republic of France too, I wish mighty Fame,
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Prosperity, Peace, and an Immortal Name.
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POP 21.
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Now I leave State Affairs, tho much might be said,
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To those mighty deep ones who let out the head,
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Ill whistle and sing, tho their wisdom may tax,
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My last, and my awl, and my ends, and my wax.
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