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[Music ]
REmember ye Whiggs what was formerly done, Remember your Mischiefs in Forty and One; When Friend oppos'd Friend, and Father the Son, Then, then the Old Cause, went rarely on; The Cap sat aloft, and low was the Crown, The Rabble got up, and the Nobles went down: Lay Elders in Tubs, Rul'd Bishops in Robes, Who mourn'd the sad Fate, And dreadful disaster, Of their Royal Master, By Rebels betray'd. Then London be wise and baffle their Power, And let them play the old game no more; Hang, hang up the Sherriffs those Baboons in pow'r, Those popular Thieves, those Rats of the Tower; Whose Canting tale the Rable believes in a hurry, And never sorry, merrily they still go on, Fie for shame, we're too tame, since they claim The combat, Tan ta ra ra ra, tan ta ra ra ra, Dub, a dub, a let the Drum beat, the strong Militia Guards the Throne.
When Faction possesses the popular voice,
The cause is supply'd still with nonsence and noise,
And Tony, their Speaker, the Rable leads on,
He knows if we prosper that he must run;
Carolina must be his next station of ease,
And London be rid of her worst disease;
