Classic Poem

Quoth the thief to the dog; 'let me into your door,
And I'll give you these delicate bits:'
Quoth the dog, 'I should then be more villain than you're,
And besides must be out of my wits:

'Your delicate bits will not serve me a meal,
But my master each day gives me bread;
You'll fly when you get what you come here to steal,
And I must be hanged in your stead.'

The stockjobber thus, from Change Alley goes down,
And tips you the freeman a wink;
'Let me have but your vote to serve for the town,
And here is a guinea to drink.'

Said the freeman, 'your guinea tonight would be spent,
Your offers of bribery cease;
I'll vote for my landlord to whom I pay rent,
Or else I may forfeit my lease.'

From London they come, silly people to chouse,
Their lands and their faces unknown;
Who'd vote a rogue into the parliament-house,
That would turn a man out of his own?