In general, this only is allowed, They’re something noisy, and a little proud. An Englishman is gentlest in command, Obedience is a stranger in the land: Hardly subjected to the magistrate, For Englishmen do all subjection hate; Humblest when rich, but peevish when they’re poor, And think, what e’er they have, they merit more. The meanest English ploughman studies law, And keeps thereby the magistrates in awe; Will boldly tell them what they have to do, And sometimes punish their omissions too. Their liberty and property’s so dear, They scorn their laws or governors to fear: So bugbeared with the name of slavery, They can’t submit to their own liberty. Restraint from ill is freedom to the wise; But Englishmen do all restraint despise. Slaves to their liquor, drudges to the pots, The mob are statesmen and their statesmen sots. Their governors they count such dangerous things, That ’tis their custom to affront their kings: So jealous of the power their kings possest, They suffer neither power nor king to rest. The bad with force they easily subdue: The good with constant clamours they pursue; And did King Jesus reign, they’d murmur too. A discontented nation, and by far Harder to rule in times of peace than war: Easily set together by the ears, And full of causeless jealousies and fears: Apt to revolt, and willing to rebel, And never are contented when they’re well. No Government could ever please them long, Could tie their hands, or rectify their tongue: In this to ancient Israel well compared, Eternal murmurs are among them heard. It was but lately that they were oppressed, Their rights invaded, and their laws suppressed: When nicely tender of their liberty, Lord! what a noise they made of slavery. In daily tumult showed their discontent, Lampooned the King, and mocked his Government. And if in arms they did not first appear, ’Twas want of force, and not for want of fear. In humbler tone than English used to do, At foreign hands for foreign aid they sue. William, the great successor of Nassau, Their prayers heard and their oppressions saw: He saw and saved them; God and him they praised, To this their thanks, to that their trophies raised. But, glutted with their own felicities, They soon their new deliverer despise; Say all their prayers back, their joy disown, Unsing their thanks, and pull their trophies down; Their harps of praise are on the willows hung, For Englishmen are ne’er contented long. The reverend clergy, too! Who would have thought That they, who had such non-resistance taught, Should e’er to arms against their prince be brought, Who up to Heaven did regal power advance, Subjecting English laws to modes of France, Twisting religion so with loyalty, As one could never live and t’other die. And yet no sooner did their prince design Their glebes and perquisites to undermine, But, all their passive doctrines laid aside, The clergy their own principles denied; Unpreached their non-resisting cant, and prayed