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When Fox and North at length agreed
To turn all blunderers out, Sir,
I then, in duty to my creed,
Once more turn’d North about, Sir,
Receipt-Tax, India Bill, and all,
With them I stoutly voted;
At back-stairs council learn'd to bawl;
And secret influence hooted.
And this is law, &c. &c. &c.
Sure a Lass, in her bloom.
SURE, a lass, in her bloom,
At the age of nineteen,
Was ne’er so distress’d
As of late I have been;
I know not, I vow,
Any harm I have done,
That my mother oft tells me,
She’d have me a nun.
Don’t you think it a pity
A girl such as I,
Should be sentenced fast
To pray and to cry;
With ways so devout
I’m not like to be won;
My heart it loves frolics
