Then, shout, &c.

Off your broad--think of this!--we will take--(if we can)--
A whole farthing a loaf; then, when wages decline,
By one-half--as they must--and you're starving, each man
In our New Poor Law Bastiles may go lodge, and go dine.
That's the plan of your Whigs--your kind-hearted, true Whigs!
Then, shout, &c.

Off the fine Memel timber, we'd take--if we could--
All tax, 'cause 'tis used in the palace and hall;
On the cottager's, tradesman's coarse Canada wood,
We will clap such a tax as shall pay us for all.
That's the "dodge" for your Whigs--your poor-loving, true Whigs!
Then, shout, &c.

To free our dear brothers, the niggers, you know
Twenty millions and more we have fix'd on your backs.
'Twas gammon--'twas humbug--'twas swindle! for, lo!
We _undo_ all we've done--we go trade in the blacks.
Your _humanity_ Whigs!--_anti-slavery_ Whigs!
Then, shout, &c.

When to Office we came, full _two millions_ in store
We found safe and snug. Now, that surplus instead,
Besides having spent _it_, and _six_ millions more,
Lo! we're short, _on the year, only two millions dead_.
That's the "_go_" for your Whigs--your _retrenching_ old Whigs
Then, shout, &c.