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And damn it we'll swinge the poor people we warrant,
We'll trim these vile folk for thus daring to twine
A Garland of Birch around Liberty's shrine.

Then some Patriots cry'd out, pray ye never descend,
Good Tories, your cause on such mean arts to stake,
Your threats are in vain, for we vow to defend
All those who are injur'd for conscience's sake:
Then over each head,

Protection we'll spread,

So our friends from your power no mischief shall dread;
But secure in their rights they shall firmly entwine
A Garland of Birch around Liberty's shrine.

Ye brave sons of Freedom then join hand in hand,
Add the wisdom of age to the vigor of youth;
'Tis your's to support what's so happily plann'd,
You've the sanction of law, and the fiat of truth:
Whilst thus we agree,

Our toast let it be,

May Britons be happy, united, and free;
And long may the sons of this city entwine
A Garland of Birch around Liberty's shrine.

A New Broom sweeps clean.

A NEW SONG.

BY AN OLD BURGESS.

Tune- -Bow, wow, wow.

You Burgesses I pray attend and listen to the story,
Of a New Broom that's lately come--'tis call'd Nottingham's

glory;

No Broon can ever it exceed--no not throughout the nation, Far to be sure, 'tis to make pure a pretty Corporation.

Sweep, sweep, sweep.

This Broom compos'd of Birch so good, you seldum see its

fellow :

In colours fine, it now doth shine, as purple pink & yellow : 'Tis held by all, both great and small, so high in estimation, 'Tis to sweep neat a hall complete for a pretty Corporation. Sweep, sweep, sweep.

There's Bull-neck brave he does command those within the hall, Sirs,

Each at his nod, his scrape or stamp, upon their knees must

fall, Sirs;

Now who this Jack-a-dandy is, requires no explanation,
Has he undertakes all dirty jobs for a pretty Corporation.
Sweep, sweep, sweep.

The Freemen's rights, and Burgess' parts, he sweeps them

altogether,

Should this New Broom come in his hand, he'll sweep away

for ever:

Then spurn at those who do propose so great an innovasion, Don't fawn on those who do compose a pretty Corporation. Sweep, sweep, sweepi.

Should the old Broom once more be sought, 'tis ready at your call, Sirs,

To sweep away all filthiness that lurks within the hall, Sirs, When it you see once in the House reassume it's station, Twill sweep and rub, severely scrub a pretty Corporation. Sweep, sweep, sweep,

With heart and hand let's drink success to the Old Broom

for ever,

A better Broom was never known in England, no, no never, For Church and King it always sweeps, so true 'tis to the

nation,

And once before it hath scrubb'd o'er a pretty Corporation.
Sweep, sweep, sweep.

1

THE

FREEMAN'S TRIUMPH.

Tune-"ANA CREON IN HEAVEN.”

WHILE oppression's dire mandate is heard o'er the world, And pride's haughty minions together conspire, .` Whose shafts with revengeful malignance are hurl'd,

To quench sacred Liberty's pure hallow'd fire:
Be it ours, now the dark storm of fate hovers o'er,
And vain boasting cowards their principles flee,
Midst the shock of contention's wide wasting roar,
Undaunted to prove that Electors are free!

Shall men, free-born men, independent and great,
Give their laws, rights, and liberties up for a bribe?
Submit to become mere machines of the state?

Or serve, willing slaves of a land-holding tribe?
Forbid it, thou Pow'r, who mak'st poverty blest!

Who giv'st to our sons the domain of the sea! While integrity holds its firm seat in our breast,

Undaunted we'll prove that Electors are free!

Can truth's sacred cause need coercion's rude sway?
Can justice be aw'd by proud threats or the sword?-
As soon might you freeze the great orb of the day,
And deprive the pale moon of her rays, by a word :
While his beams on your heads, and ours, equally shine,
Hear this,-ye oppressors!--the Freeman's deeree !
'Gainst our cause though the great of the land may combine,
The ELECTORS OF NOTTINGHAM dare to be free!

Are we Britons?-like Britons we'll nobly maintain
Those Rights which our Forefathers seal'd with their blood!
Shall we sully their honour? Their laurel'd brows stain?
The Palladium destroy, which for ages has stood?

Ah no! Public virtue is not yet extinct;

It glows in our bosoms! it flows in our veins !
It burns with a flame brightly clear and distinct :---
May it burn till it melt off Oppression's fell Chains!

The TRIUMPH of FREEDOM,

A PARODY.

WHILE discord's dire mandate is heard in the land,
And arnachy's minions together conspire;

While with rancorous hatred and malice they strive
To quench sacred Liberty's pure hallow'd fire.
Be ours the endeavour to shield the fair flame,
And shew these dissemblers with them we agree,
'Midst contention's rude shock, and "wide wasting roar,"
The Electors of Nottingham ought to be free.

Shall men, free born men, independent and great
Surrender their Rights to a riotous clan?

Be depriv'd of their freedom?---the gift of the state !
By the zealous supporters of Paine's Rights of Man?
Ah, never!--no never--- will England's proud Sons,
Who claim as their own the domain of the sea;
Permit ye---Dissemblers to bear down this truth,
That Elections, Electors, and Britons are free.

Hear this ye Dissemblers---an Englishman's boast---
Our "Freedom our Fore-fathers bought with their blood :
Full soon ye will know, and perhaps to your cost,

"That their Sons and their Sons' Sons will prove the deed's
good."

Are we Britons?, Like Britons we'll nobly maintain,
Independence by land---and our Empire by sea;
By Experience we'll teach our opponents this Truth--
That Electors are now, and will ever be free.

Song in favor of MR. COKE.

TUNE." Rule Britannia."

Hail COKE! the man of fam'd renown,
The Tories him with laurels crown;
The Birchites may do all they can,

Yet COKE shall be our Parliament Man.

CHORUS.

True Blue, True Blue, the Order of the Day, No B-rch, and Sl-v-s, the People say.

Mock Sons of Freedom, we make no doubt, Would put the Tories to the rout

But we detest their roguish plan,

For COKE shall be our Parliament Man.

The Birchites now pretend to be
True Friends to King and Loyalty;
But we despise the treacherous gang,
For COKE shall be our Parliament Man.

Deluded Whigs they make their boast
Of BIRCH---their universal toast;
But honest men their rights maintain,
And PARKER COKE return again.

For we are loyal to a man,
Our rights we boldly will defend :
"We value not the clamourous throng,
For COKE and FREEDOM is our song,

COKE is the Champion of our Cause,
Defends his Country, and it's Laws:
Perjur'd Miscreants to Justice bring,
And we will sing. "God save the King.
* Repeat the Chorus after every Verse.

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