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42 THE PARODY.
Your grandsire, old Satan, now give him a cheer, Would act like yourselves, and as wildly would steer : So great an example in prospect still keep, Whilst you are alive, Old Belza may sleep.
Such villains, such rascals, all dangers despise, And stick not at mobbing when mischief's the prize; They burst thro' all barriers, and piously keep Such chattels and goods the vile rascals can sweep.
The Tree, which the wisdom of justice hath rear'd, Should be stout for their use, and by no means be spar'd: When fuddled with rum the mad sots to restrain, Sure Tyburn will sober the wretches again.
Your brats and your bunters by no means forget, But feather your nests, for they're bare enough yet; From the insolent rich sure the poor knave may steal, Who ne'er in his life knew the scent of a meal.
When in your own cellars you've quaff'd a regale,
Then drive, tug and------, the next house to assail;
For short is your harvest, nor long shall you know The pleasure of reaping what other men sow.