"You have my Sons too with you who bow down "Beneath the weighty Service of the Crown; "My Cousins and their Cousins too--hard Fate! "Are _loaded_ with the Offices of State; "And not _one Soul_ of all my Kindred's free "From _sharing_ in the Public Drudgery: "Why then these Shafts of Calumny you throw, "This groundless _Odium_ cast on all I do? "Speak out with Freedom what you have to say, "Aside all _Influence_, _Pow'r_, and _Skreen_ I lay, } "And put my Conduct on the Proof To-day. } This Sir, if you dare stand the Inquest, do, And then if you've but _Samuel_'s _Answer_ too, If all this heavy Charge is void of Ground, And by the _publick Voice_ you're _guiltless_ found, Resume your Power, with Terrors arm'd go forth, And blast the Villains that traduc'd your Worth; Who basely durst your Righteous Course Arraign, And Soil the Glory's of great _Brunswick_'s Reign. But if you _know_ your Cause is not the _best_ Know that you have Defrauded and Oppress'd, That you have ta'en and giv'n many a Bribe, And of a _wicked Contract_ been the Scribe. That you _have_ pilfer'd _Forage_ from the Beast, And with the _Publick Wealth_ your _own_ encreas'd; That a dire _Scheme_ you laid t' _Excise_ the Land, And to a vile C--v----n set your Hand; That you've _Monopoliz'd_ each Post and Place, To aggrandize your self and _Mushroom_ Race, That all your Kindred--Brother, Sons, and Cousins, Have _Titles_ and _Employments_ by the _Dozens_; And for as many _Sidesmen_ as are wanted, _New Places_ are contriv'd, _new Pensions_ granted. If you are travell'd in these _crooked_ Ways With a long Train of black _et Cetera's_; Whilst the _whole Nation_ loaths your very Name, And Babes and Sucklings your _Dispraise_ proclaim; Turn your Eyes inward, on yourself reflect, Think what you _are_, then what you're to _expect_: Pass a few Years the _Sisters_ cut your Thread, And rank you in the Number of the Dead; But of what _Dead_? not those whose Memory, Bloom with sweet Savour through Posterity. Those deathless Worthies, who, as Good as Great, Or rais'd a fall'n, or prop'd a sinking State; Or in the breach of Desolation stood, And for their Country's Welfare pledg'd their Blood. No! with the _Curs'd_ your Tomb shall foremost stand, The GAVESTON'S and WOLSEY'S of the Land. Your Epitaph--_In this foul Grave lies HE_, _Who dug the grave of_ British _Liberty_. Since then your Glass has but few Hours to run, Quit quit the Reins before we're quite undone. Why should you torture out your Dregs of Life, In publick Tumult, Infamy and Strife? To the last gasp maintain a baneful Power Only to see your Country die before? If not for _us_--for your _own_ Family, And as you've made 'em _Great_, pray leave 'em _Free_.