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WILL WOOD'S PETITION.
319
You will be my thankers,
I'll make you my bankers,
As good as Ben Burton or Fade[1]:
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.
YE 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.
- ↑ Two famous bankers.
The
