A New SONG.
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THanks to our good K--- William,
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Who looks so kindly to Us,
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He sends our Money all abroad
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For fear it should undoe us.
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Oh, Twenty Millions good,
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And Ten more must be paid;
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Abroad we lose our English Bloud,
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And their Leaders were affraid.
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I mean not good Count Solmes,
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Nassau, nor Scravenmore;
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For if there e'er were such Poltrones
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My Mother is a Whore:
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Nor the two new made Lords,
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Benting, nor Squab Athlone;
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Nor yet our Cosin Zuylestein,
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For such were never known.
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Oh Twenty Millions good, etc.
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At Steinkirk they did sacrifice
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The bravest of our Men,
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And here he leaves his nasty Dutch
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To get us Heirs agen.
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Oh, Twenty Millions good, etc.
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You swearing Clergy all,
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Who grumbling pay your Mulct;
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But if the Devil comes a shoar,
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You'll sing Quicunque vult.
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Oh, Twenty Millions good, etc.
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The Members sell their Votes,
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And give away our Riches;
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But when King James does come again
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They'll all besh--t their Breeches.
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Oh, Twenty Millions good, etc.
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Four years you have been sitting,
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And all to mend our Laws;
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But if you ha'nt your Pensions paid,
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You'll turn your Yeas to Noes.
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Oh, Twenty Millions good, etc.
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God bless our King and Queen,
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And send them long to reign;
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For if they e'er do Abdicate,
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We shall ne'er have the like again.
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Oh, Twenty Millions good,
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And Ten more must be paid;
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Abroad we lose our English Blood,
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And their Leaders were affraid.
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