Peace And Dunkirk

Spite of Dutch friends and English foes,

Poor Britain shall have peace at last:

Holland got towns, and we got blows;  But Dunkirk's ours, we'll hold it fast.    We have got it in a string,    And the Whigs may all go swing,

For among good friends I love to be plain;    All their false deluded hopes    Will, or ought to end in ropes;"But the Queen shall enjoy her own again."Sunderland's run out of his wits,  And Dismal double Dismal looks;

Wharton can only swear by fits,  And strutting Hal is off the hooks;    Old Godolphin, full of spleen,    Made false moves, and lost his Queen:

Harry look'd fierce, and shook his ragged mane:    But a Prince of high renown    Swore he'd rather lose a crown,"Than the Queen should enjoy her own again."Our merchant-ships may cut the line,  And not be snapt by privateers.

And commoners who love good wine  Will drink it now as well as peers:    Landed men shall have their rent,    Yet our stocks rise cent, per cent.

The Dutch from hence shall no more millions drain:    We'll bring on us no more debts,    Nor with bankrupts fill gazettes;"And the Queen shall enjoy her own again."The towns we took ne'er did us good:  What signified the French to beat?

We spent our money and our blood,  To make the Dutchmen proud and great:    But the Lord of Oxford swears,    Dunkirk never shall be theirs.

The Dutch-hearted Whigs may rail and complain;    But true Englishmen may fill    A good health to General Hill:"For the Queen now enjoys her own again."