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So Satan he labour'd night and day
To unite their political rancour,

Shook hands with Carlisle, made Cobbett his pet,
Stoop'd down to the people, and flatter'd Burdett,
And gave toasts at the Crown and Anchor.

Pamphlets he wrote, and he bribed the Press,
And it work'd to his special wonder,
And soon as he saw the dark sky to lower,
He bribed the Whigs with the hopes of
The rabble with hopes of plunder.

Thus Satan went on at a slapping pace,
A Radical rollocking fellow-


Wrote in the Chronicle, slaver'd o'er crimes,
And became the principal scribe in The Times,
And a dab in the "Blue and Yellow."

He prated of Parsons, Bishops, and Tithes,
Economy, Representation,

The Tories, the Debt, March of Intellect, Steam,
Of Aristocrats and thus laid the deep scheme
Of perpetual agitation.

Republican plans, with a plausible air,

Put forth, growing bolder and bolder; An acquaintance pick'd with the Treasury clerks, And mended their pens, and alter'd their marks, And look'd over the Premier's shoulder.

But his cunningest scheme was to urge the Whigs, To urge the mobs to combine, sir,

To force on a Tory Government

Most devilish plans of mismanagement,

That the state he might undermine, sir.

To work they went, and the first on the list
Was the Currency alteration,

That increased debt and taxes fifty per cent,
By reduction of credit and profit and rent,
And beggar'd one half the nation.

Then the mortgagee seized houses and land,
And the widow and orphan daughter
Were thrust from their homes to the parish poor,
And the wolf was no longer kept from the door,
But the lamb given up to slaughter.

Then he broach'd Free Trade, and at once it set
The Satanic philosophers plotting,

It whipp'd off our wealth to foreigners' hands,
And forced back the poor on the burden'd lands,
And it laid up our ships for rotting.

On our Colonies casting an evil eye,
Then Satan adopted a lingo
Conventicle-bred-and his Proselytes

Went stirring the blacks to murder the whites,
Like the devils at St Domingo.

Then Satan he quoted Holy Writ,

And uprose the fanatical fry, sir,

And doom'd the poor planters to instant death,
And they raved, till e'en Satan drew in his breath;
They did so monstrously lie, sir.


Now the country up, the country down,
And around in his vocation,

He travell'd by day and he travell'd by night,
And was very well pleased to see—all right—
And ripe for his ÂGITATION.

He had thoughts of sailing for Ireland,

To proclaim himself King in Munster;

But the devils are there so thick, quoth he,
And so stirring, they cannot have need of me,

And there's Moore-he will "Make the Fun stir."

If the King had his Viceroy-so had he

And a Saintship of Holy Murther;

But to play off his game according to Hoyle,
He wrote a few orders to Doctor Doyle,
And then troubled his head no further.

Now the Whigs uprose in the Parliament House,
It was done at Satan's suggestion;
And the Tories gave way in an evil hour
To storm, and to threat, and Papistical power,
And ceded the Catholic Question.

But the pardon-cramm'd Papists the bolder grew,
All was murder, rape, and arson;

The land should be theirs-and no tithe they swore,
And the savages shouted-while dripping with gore—
Oh! 'tis only a Protestant Parson!

Satan leap'd for joy-he clear'd at a bound,
And they still shew the prints in proof, sir,

The whole London University,

And as he descended precipitously,

A professor he kill'd with his hoof, sir.

Then he travell'd afresh the country round,
Proclaim'd Ireland liberty's sample-

If he could but bring things to the very same pass
In England, including both murder and mass,
His success would be more than ample.

So he travell'd and travell'd, distributing Tracts
Through city, through town, through village;
Swore that governments were but public drains,
That the people should knock out the Parsons' brains,
And wages give place to pillage.


Now Satan set up for a parliament-man,
And scatter'd his bribe and bounty,

But the boroughs were close, and he could not get in,
Though he swore and he lied through thick and thin-
So he tried his luck at a county.

But foil'd a while, in his wrath he raved

Against Parliament, Peers, and Crown, sir,
And swore he'd ride in on the people's necks,
(He'd return'd his own Member for Middlesex,)
And would turn the House upside down, sir.

He scratch'd his head, and he bit his nails,
And his Council of Whigs assembled ;
'Twas a capital hit-he utter'd Reform-
And the Devil himself never knew such a storm,
And the ground beneath them trembled.

Away went the sound through the troubled land,
And Satan blew loud the trumpet;

'Twas up with the Blackguard-the Gentleman down,
Peer, Parson, and Squire-up Ruffian and Clown,
Up brawler and brazen strumpet.

They call'd for the Whigs; and the Whigs for them,
In the name of the Sovereign People;

And they bow'd and they cringed to the beastliest mob,
All roaring to burn and to plunder and rob,

With the tri-colour over the steeple.

The Whigs came in and show'd Wellington out ;
Then Satan, in all his glory,

Let loose the whole Press, with their blood-hound pack,
And he mounted Swing on a Treasury hack,

And hark into the death of a Tory.

Then Satan walk'd forth in the name of Reform,

To demand an illumination,

To honour the Whigs-and throughout the land
Incendiaries ran with the blazing brand,
For a general conflagration.


Now Satan he met his friend Talleyrand,
And, quoth he, Old boy, you're welcome;
Let us now put our heads together a bit-
Now, wasn't Reform a most capital hit?
Quoth the Frenchman, 'Tis very Hell come!

Quoth Satan one day to Talleyrand,
As their coffee they were quaffing,

'Twas a master-stroke, my good Talley, to get
For a Ministry such a contemptible set-
That to think on I can't help laughing.

I'd have given, quoth Talley, a thousand-pound
To have father'd the scheme-nor grudge it.
Then Satan he shook both his sides with glee,
And chuckling-The Impotent cripples, quoth he;
And oh! what a damnable Budget!

What breaking of treaties, of contracts, of laws,
What maniac legislation!

Pick'd out of the idiot-Philosophers' schools;
And a New Rule of Figures I furnish'd the Fools,
And they call'd it Fructification.

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Then the Ministry clear'd the Parliament House,
Though none knew why or wherefore,

Except that the People might rage in the storm,
And send up their Delegates mad for Reform
And that not a thing else would care for.

Then Satan he posted placards about,

To keep up Satanic delusion

There was brickbat and bludgeon, for freedom and law, You'd have thought that grim Satan had stirr'd with his claw The caldron of all confusion.

Then he wrote in the Times with more ardent rage—

His horns they stuck out of his forehead;

He hid not his hoofs-he untwisted his tail-
And it bang'd the poor Tories about like a flail,
And the blast of his breath was horrid.

Now the smithies of Brummagem bellow'd and roar'd,
Red-hot was the forge of Sedition ; et ett bad
And the bolts from the Unions were daringly thrown
At the Peerage of England, the Altar, and Throne;
-And the scoundrels pretended Petition.

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Then Satan he organized Union mobs, ob und all
Marching under the tricolour banners, de VĒ

To insult and to bully their Citizen King,
And offend him, as hypocrite homage they bring,
Still more by their beastly manners. golos 4


The Delegates met for the bargain'd work,
And like "Mutes" they sat to strangle

The Constitution in Parliament;
And without was a raving rabblement―
All ready to cut and mangle.

The Bill of Reform, it pass'd one House,

But was knock'd on the head in the other,
For the Premier had dared to threaten the Peers,
And insult the Bishops with jibes and with jeers-
For his rage he could not smother.

Then Satan he chuckled, the game went well;
But to humble so proud a railer,

He sent him a posse at dead of night,

And made him stoop down from his lordly height,
And cringe to a beggarly tailor.

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Oh! now was the time for Satan's own reign,
With a Ministry all distraction-

So he set up a Brummagem Parliament-
And the edict went forth that the Peers' dissent
Was "The Whisper of a Faction."

Oh! how Satan rejoiced at the work assign'd!

As he enter❜d the holy border

The Bishops-the Bishops-ah, give them new light!—
So a Palace he burn'd on the Sabbath night,

Ere the Bishop could "put it in order."

Oh! then it was Fire and Fury and Flame
Lighting up the Reformers' revels;

A city was burning, and reeking with blood,
And the Burners dropp'd into the flaming flood,
Like blacken'd and tortured Devils.

Satan stood high upon Brandon* Hill,
With his fiery eyeballs glowing;

He bang'd the ground with his swinging tail,
And the Demons came round him, and cried, All hail!
See, see, how Reform is going!

Satan he stood in the blazing square,t
In the midst of conflagration;

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And shouted, Reform!—the day's my own,
I've won me on earth another throne→→
And this is my Coronation...

Satan he stood by the gallows-tree,

When the noose was tied to sever

The living and dead, 'mid the orphans' groans,
He bent down his head to the widows' moans,
And shouted, Reform for evER!

* The hill commanding the city of Bristol.

+ Queen Square, in which the Custom-house, Excise, and upwards of forty houses were destroyed.

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