He tried the art of magic To bring his schemes about, At length the gloomy project He artfully found out; The plan was long indulgèd In a clandestine way, But lately was divulgèd In North America. These subtle arch-combiners Addressed the British court, All three were undersigners Of this obscure report-- There is a pleasant landscape That lieth far away Beyond the wide Atlantic, In North America. There is a wealthy people, Who sojourn in that land, Their churches all with steeples Most delicately stand: Their houses like the gilly, Are painted red and gay: They flourish like the lily In North America. Their land with milk and honey Continually doth flow, The want of food or money They seldom ever know: They heap up golden treasure, They have no debts to pay, They spend their time in pleasure In North America. On turkeys, fowls, and fishes, Most frequently they dine, With gold and silver dishes Their tables always shine. They crown their feasts with butter, They eat, and rise to play; In silks their ladies flutter, In North America. With gold and silver laces They do themselves adorn, The rubies deck their faces, Refulgent as the morn: Wine sparkles in their glasses, They spend each happy day In merriment and dances In North America. Let not our suit affront you, When we address your throne; O King, this wealthy country And subjects are your own, And you, their rightful sovereign They truly must obey, You have a right to govern This North America. O King, you've heard the sequel Of what we now subscribe: Is it not just and equal To tax this wealthy tribe? The question being askèd, His majesty did say, My subjects shall be taxèd In North America. Invested with a warrant, My publicans shall go, The tenth of all their current They surely shall bestow; If they indulge rebellion, Or from my precepts stray, I'll send my war battalion To North America. I'll rally all my forces By water and by land, My light dragoons and horses Shall go at my command; I'll burn both town and city, With smoke becloud the day, I'll show no human pity For North America. Go on, my hearty soldiers, You need not fear of ill-- There's Hutchinson and Rogers, Their functions will fulfill-- They tell such ample stories, Believe them sure we may, One half of them are tories In North America. My gallant ships are ready To waft you o'er the flood, And in my cause be steady, Which is supremely good. Go ravage, steal, and plunder, And you shall have the prey; They quickly will knock under In North America.