Classic Poem

Here's a health to the Tackers, my boys,
But mine arse for the Tackers about,
May the brave English spirits come in,
And the knaves and fanatics turn out:
Since the magpies of late are confounding the state,
And would pull our establishments down,
Let us make 'em a jest, for they shit in their nest,
And be true to the church and the crown.

Let us choose such Parliament men
As have stuck to their principles tight,
And would not their country betray
In the story of Ashby and White,
Who care not a turd for a Whig or a lord
That won't see our accounts fairly stated,
For Churchill ne'er fears the address of those peers
Who the nation of millions have cheated.

The next thing advisable is,
Since schism so strangely abounds,
To oppose ev'ry man that's set up
By Dissenters in corporate towns,
For high church and low church has brought us to no church,
And conscience so bubbled the nation,
That who is not still for conformity bill
Will be surely a rogue on occasion.