Classic Poem

A Merry land! By this light
We laugh at our own undoing,
And labour with all our might
For slavery and ruin.
New factions we daily raise,
New maxims we're ever instilling,
And him that today we praise
Tomorrow's a rogue and a villain.

The cunning politician,
Whose aim is to gull the people,
Begins his cant of sedition
With Folks, have a care of the steeple!
The populace this alarms,
They bluster, they bounce, and they vapour;
The nation's up in arms,
And the devil begins to caper.

The statesmen they rail at each other,
And tickle the mob with their story;
They make a most horrible pother
Of national interest and glory.
Their hearts are as bitter as gall,
Tho' their tongues they are sweeter than honey;
They don't care a fig for us all,
But only to finger our money.

If my friend be an honest lad
I never ask his religion;
Distinctions make us all mad,
And ought to be had in derision;
They christen us Tories and Whigs,
When the best of 'em both is an evil;
But we'll be no party prigs;
Let such godfathers go to the devil.

Too long they have had their ends
In setting us one against t'other,
And sowing such strife among friends
That brother hated brother.
But we'll for the future be wise,
Grow sociable, honest, and hearty;
We'll all of their arts despise,
And laugh at the name of a party.