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Scorn to be bound with golden chains. Though they allure the sight;
Bid them defiance, if they claim Our freedom and birth-right.
Shall we our freedom give away,
And all our comfort place In drinking of outlandish tea,
Only to please our taste ?
Forbid it Heaven, let us be wise, And seek our country's good;
Nor ever let a thought arise, That tea should be our food.
Since we so great a plenty have, Of all that's for our health;
Shall we that blasted herb receive, Impoverishing our wealth ?
When we survey the breathless corpse,
With putrid matter filled ; For crawling worms, a sweet resort,
By us reputed ill.