Lord what a House is here, how Thin ’tis grown! As Church ‘ere Conventicling was put down: Since all the Brave are to Newmarket gone! 5 Declining States-men are abandon’d too, Who scarce a Heartless Whigg will Visit now: Who once had Crowds of Mutineers in Fashion, Fine drawn in Cullys of th’ Association: Sparks, Justices and Jurymen by Dozens, Whom his perverted late betrays and Cozens. 10 But change of Scene, having unvail’d their Cheats, Pensive State Puss alone, Majestick Sits; Purr’s on his pointless Mischiefs, tho’ in vain; Verses are all the Darlings of his Brain. 15 So we who having Plotted long to please, With new Parts, new Cloathes, new Face, new Dress; To draw in all the yielding Hearts o’th’ Town, His Highness comes and all our Hopes are gone. Ah Fickle Youth, what lasting Joys have we, When Beauty thus is left for Loyalty; 20 I would to Heaven ye had been all Whiggs for me: Whilst Honest Tory Fools abroad do Roame, Whigg Lovers S[t]ay and Plot, and Love at Home. Nay one Advantage greater far than this, The Party helps to keep their Mistresses. 25 The Devils i[n]’t if I’m not Fine and Vain, Whom publick Bank Contribute to Maintain.