I pledge myself thro' thick and thin,
To labor still with zeal devout
To get the Outs, poor devils, in,
And turn the Ins, the wretches, out.
I pledge myself, tho' much bereft
Of ways and means of ruling ill,
To make the most of what are left,
And stick to all that's rotten still.
Tho' gone the days of place and pelf,
And drones no more take all the honey,
I pledge myself to cram myself
With all I can of public money.
To quarter on that social purse
My nephews, nieces, sisters, brothers,
Nor, so _we_ prosper, care a curse
How much 'tis at the expense of others.
I pledge myself, whenever Right
And Might on any point divide,
Not to ask which is black or white.
But take at once the strongest side.
For instance, in all Tithe discussions,
I'm _for_ the Reverend encroachers:-
I loathe the Poles, applaud the Russians,--
Am _for_ the Squires, _against_ the Poachers.
Betwixt the Corn-lords and the Poor
I've not the slightest hesitation,--
The People _must_ be starved, to insure
The Land its due remuneration.
I pledge myself to be no more
With Ireland's wrongs beprosed or shammed,--
I vote her grievances a _bore_,
So she may suffer and be damned.
Or if she kick, let it console us,
We still have plenty of red coats,
To cram the Church, that general bolus,
Down any given amount of throats.
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