Rules or reformation;
All that's done not worth two straws
To the welfare of the nation;
If men in power do rant it still,
And give no reason but their will
For all their domination;
Or if they do an act that's just,
'Tis not because they would, but must,
To gratify some party's lust.

All our expense of blood and purse
Has yet produced no profit;
Men are still as bad or worse,
And will whate'er comes of it.
We've shuffled out and shuffled in
The person, but retain the sin,
To make our game the surer;
Yet spight of all our pains and skill,
The knaves all in the pack are still,
And ever were, and ever will,
Though something now demurer.

And it can never be so,
Since knaves are still in fashion;
Men of souls so base and low,
Meer bigots of the nation;
Whose designs are power and wealth,
At which by rapine, power, and stealth,
Audaciously they vent're ye;
They lay their consciences aside,