The Whigs in Mourning
For the Loss of Their CHARTER.
To the Tune of, Let the Whigs repine, and all combine, etc.
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I.
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LEt the snarling Whig
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Ne'r look so big,
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Nor once pretend to mutter;
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Now their Charter's gone,
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They sigh and moan,
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And keep a woundy clutter:
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Hanging down their pensive ears,
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They mourn the sad disaster
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That fill'd their heads with causless fears
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Of Royal CHARLES their Master.
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II.
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Let their cursed PLOT
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Be quite forgot
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And their damn'd ASSOCIATION;
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Let their minds be bent
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To circumvent
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The Toneys of the Nation:
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To Justice bring all canting Rogues,
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Who teach the Rabble Notions,
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And at Tyburn let the Dogs
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Pay all their last Devotions.
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III.
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Let's all rejoyce,
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That Whig D---is
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And P------ion are detected,
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That their Whiggish May'r,
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Who'd usurp the Chair,
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Was shamefully rejected:
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Patience teach you to beware
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Of Perjury and Treason;
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Hang up Baldwin, Curtis, Care,
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Since 'tis but Law and Reason.
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IV.
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Let Robin swear,
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And Tommy stare,
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Like men bereft of senses;
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Let Hu---nd strut,
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And Je---ll fret,
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For their loss, and vast expences:
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Let damn'd Titus bounce and crack,
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And swagger like a Carter,
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Throw the Knaves upon their backs
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That took away the CHARTER.
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V.
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Let the Whiggish Fops
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Shut up their Shops,
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And then commit a Ryot;
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But I'd advise
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The Cits be wise
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And study to be quiet.
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Curses ever more attend
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Their arbitrary actions,
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Hemp and Faggot put an end
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To all their Feuds and Factions.
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VI.
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But alas! the Saints
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With sorrow faint,
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To see this fatal minute,
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And curse too late
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That Imp of State
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That brought the CITY in it.
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Settle left 'em in the nick
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Of all their tears and sorrow,
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And when he saw the Cause lie sick,
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He bid the Whigs good morrow.
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VII.
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When the Trimmer meets
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A Whig, he greets
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Him with this dreadful story;
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Quoth he, Not far
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From Temple-bar
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I heard a wicked TORY
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Drinking our new CHARTERS health,
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('Tis true, as God shall sa' me,)
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Wishing those no Joy nor Wealth,
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That love not CHARLES and JEMMY.
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