Their bellies fill'd with wine, their chests with
Squeez'd from a nation which they've bought and sold.
No conscience pricks; — no dread of public wrath; —
They rob like Orford, or an Earl of Bath !
A groaning nation breaks no silken ease,
And only study how l——d B——te to please,
Thus warm'd within the down of regal wing,
Whilst England mourns, her statesmen laugh and sing.
O Britain's guardian, when wilt thou awake,
And on such vipers deadly vengeance take.