THE people's friends see how they meet, All in the dumps, with nought to eat, And prudently give up reform, To bend their force against the storm; But nought afford to give relief To patr'ot woe or patr'ot grief.

The Foxites next lo meet to dine, And sing and toast o'er good port wine, Extol their chief up to the sky, Ney, they almost him deify; But nought afford to give relief To patr'ot woe or patr'ot grief.

The Stanhopites, deficient no wise To celebrate their recent vict'ries, By hundreds meet to drink and feed, To shew themselves of the true breed; That Burke named them in his ire, Who for to feed would dig in mire. But nought afford to give relief To patriot woe or patr'ot grief.

If half the wealth, and half the wind, That there was spent to no great end, Had been employ'd for to relieve The wants of patr'ots that now grieve, It would have caus'd without alloy, For years to come, exquisite joy.

But sighs now follow prison groans, And duns and landlords, in their turns, The place of gaolers stern supply, And crush the heart late doom'd to die; Though doom'd to die in freedom's cause, No doom'd to starve with bare applause.

Farewel, ye gorging parties, then, Go feed like swine, ye are not men; Whate'er your parties you may call, You're all alike, so d'mn you all.

Feb. 8, 1795