And always mind your rules so justly,
Should I live long as old Methus❜lah,
I'll never join in British rage,

Nor help Lord North, nor Gen'ral Gage;
Nor lift my gun in future fights,
Nor take away your Charter-rights;
Nor overcome your new-raised levies,
Destroy your towns, nor burn your navies;
Nor cut your poles down while I've breath,
Though raised more thick than hatchel-teeth:
But leave King George and all his elves
To do their conq'ring work themselves."
This said, they lower'd him down in state,
Spread at all points, like falling cat;
But took a vote first on the question,
That they'd accept this full confession,
And to their fellowship and favor,
Restore him on his good behaviour.

Not so our 'Squire submits to rule,

But stood, heroic as a mule.
"You'll find it all in vain, quoth he,
To play your rebel tricks on me.
All punishments, the world can render,
Serve only to provoke th' offender;

The will gains strength from treatment horrid, As hides grow harder when they're curried.

No man e'er felt the halter draw,

With good opinion of the law;
Or held in method orthodox
His love of justice, in the stocks;
Or fail'd to lose by sheriff's shears
At once his loyalty and ears.

Have you made Murray* look less big,
Or smoked old Williams* to a Whig?
Did our mobb'd Ol'vert quit his station,
Or heed his vows of resignation?

Has Rivington,‡ in dread of stripes,
Ceased lying since you stole his types?

* Members of the Mandamus Council in Massachusetts. The operation of smoking Tories was thus performed. The victim was confined in a close room before a large fire of green wood, and a cover applied to the top of the chimney.

Thomas Oliver, Esq. Lieut. Governor of Massachusetts. He was surrounded at his seat in the country and intimidated by the mob into the signing of his resignation.

Rivington was a tory Printer in New-York. Just before the commencement of the war, a party from New-Haven attacked his press, and carried off, or destroyed the types.

And can you think my faith will alter,
By tarring, whipping or the halter?
I'll stand the worst; for recompense
I trust King George and Providence.
And when with conquest gain'd I come,
Array'd in law and terror home,

Ye'll rue this inauspicious morn,

And curse the day, when ye were born,
In Job's high style of imprecations,
With all his plagues, without his patience."
Meanwhile beside the pole, the guard
A Bench of Justice had prepared,*
Where sitting round in awful sort
The grand Committee hold their Court;
While all the crew, in silent awe,
Wait from their lips the lore of law.
Few moments with deliberation

They hold the solemn consultation;
When soon in judgment all agree,
And Clerk proclaims the dread decree;

* An imitation of legal forms was universally practised by the mobs in New-England, in the trial and condemnation of This marks a curious trait of national character.

Tories.