# The Barber.

## A new SONG

I Hope I flan't offend at all,
For Pitt was lov'd by great and small,
Tho' Scottish pride did feek his fall,
But still he was the Barber.
Lord B—e, we hear, he has laid down,
And glad he was to quit the town.
For daily he did lofe renown,
Which cannot be the Barber.

Whilft he did hold the reins of flate,
No Englishman did share his fate,
Each beggar'd Scot he did make great,
But that was not the Barber.
Brave Colonel Wilkes afoe we hear,
And solemnly he did declare,
No Scottish rebel he would fear.
Now was not that the Barber ?

Our jolly tars who fought so well,
Oh ! how it grives me for to tell,
That they hove not been us'd to well,
But that was not the Barber,
Tho' George the Third did boldly fay,
Before from him they went away,
Each jolly tar should have his pay,
But things are not the Barber.

If Sawney's pride had reach'd its pitch,
We all had furely catch'd the itch,
For we'd-been poor and they'd been rich,
But that was not the Barber.
For daily he doth make us rue,
The beer is tax'd—and cyder too,
I hope that it will never do.
Because its not the Barber

Let all true Britons with me pray,
That George may bear the regal fway,
Old England he will give fair play,
For that will be the Barber.
That harmony may still remain,
And put each Briton out of pain,
Defiance bid to France and Spain.
Which always was the Barber.

And now I hope I've faid no wrong,
But all good people in the throng,
With one confent will buy my fong,
And that will be the Barber.
For sure we had no more in view,
Than help ourselves and pleafure you,
And now we bid you all adieu,
The clean thing is the Barber.