Classic Poem

Tho' begging is an honest trade
Which wealthy knaves despise,
Yet rich men may be beggars made,
And we that beg may rise;
The greatest kings may be betray'd
And lose their sov'reign power,
But he that stoops to ask his bread
Can never fall much lower.

Tho' foreigners have swarm'd of late
And spoil'd our begging trade,
Yet still we live and drink good beer,
Tho' they our rights invade;
Some say they for religion fled,
But wiser people tell
That they were forc'd to leave their home
Because they would rebel.

Let heavy taxes greater grow
To make our army fight;
Where 'tis not to be had, you know,
The king must lose his right;
Let one side laugh, the other mourn,
We've no anxiety
But great lords will beggars be
To be as great as we.

What tho' we make the world believe
That we are sick or lame?
'Tis now a virtue to deceive;
Our teachers do the same.
In trade dissembling is no crime,
And we may live to see
That begging in a little time
The only trade will be.