II.

To _London_, “the rich, the defenceless”[16] she comes— Hark! my boys, to the sound of the Jacobin drums! See Corruption, Prescription, and Privilege fly, Pierced through by the glance of her blood-darting eye. While patriots, from prison and prejudice freed, In soft accents shall lisp the Republican creed, And with tri-colour’d fillets, and cravats of green, Shall crowd round the altar of _Saint Guillotine_.