man, in Highland costume, in the background, commented, "It's aw over with us now, and aw our aspiring hopes are gone"; whilst an English mob advanced waving the banners of Magna Charta, and "Liberty, Property, and No Excise."
I give one of the ballads printed on this occasion: it is entitled, "The Scotch Yoke, and English Resentment. To the tune of The Queen's Ass."
Of Freedom no longer let Englishmen boast,
Nor Liberty more be their favourite Toast;
The Hydra Oppression your Charta defies,
And galls English Necks with the Yoke of Excise,
The Yoke of Excise, the Yoke of Excise,
And galls English Necks with the Yoke of Excise.
In vain have you conquer'd, my brave Hearts of Oak,
Your Laurels, your Conquests are all but a Joke;
Let a rascally Peace serve to open your Eyes,
And the d nable Scheme of a Cyder-Excise,
A Cyder-Excise, etc.
What though on your Porter a Duty was laid,
Your Light double-tax'd, and encroach'd on your Trade;
Who e'er could have thought that a Briton so wise
Would admit such a Tax as the Cyder- Excise,
The Cyder-Excise, etc.
I appeal to the Fox, or his Friend John a-Boot,
If tax'd thus the Juice, then how soon may the Fruit?
Adieu then to good Apple-puddings and Pyes,
If e'er they should taste of a cursed Excise,
A cursed Excise, etc.
Let those at the Helm, who have sought to enslave
A Nation so glorious, a People so brave,
At once be convinced that their Scheme you despise,
And shed your last Blood to oppose the Excise,
Oppose the Excise, etc.
Come on then, my Lads, who have fought and have bled,
A Tax may, perhaps, soon be laid on your Bread;
Ye Natives of Worc'ster and Devon arise,
And strike at the Root of the Cyder-Excise,
The Cyder-Excise, etc.
|
