Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 7.djvu/331

Rh You will be my thankers, I'll make you my bankers, As good as Ben Burton or Fade : For nothing shall pass But my pretty brass, And then you'll be all of a trade.

I'm a son of a whore If I have a word more To say in this wretched condition. If my coin will not pass, I must die like an ass; And so I conclude my petition.

people of Ireland, both country and city, Come listen with patience, and hear out my ditty: At this time I'll choose to be wiser than witty. Which nobody can deny. The halfpence are coming, the nation's undoing, There's an end of your ploughing, and baking, and brewing; In short, you must all go to rack and to ruin. Which, &c. Both high men and low men, and thick men and tall men, And rich men and poor men, and free men and thrall men, Will suffer; and this man, and that man, and all men. Which, &c. The