An Excellent New Song, upon the Declarations of the Several Corporations of the City of Dublin Against Wood's Halfpence

O Dublin is a fine townAnd a gallant city,For Wood's trash is tumbled down,Come listen to my ditty,O Dublin is a fine town, &c.

In full assembly all did meetOf every corporation,From every lane and every street,To save the sinking nation.O Dublin, &c.

The bankers would not let it passFor to be Wood's tellers,Instead of gold to count his brass,And fill their small-beer cellars.O Dublin, &c.

And next to them, to take his coinThe Gild would not submit,They all did go, and all did join,And so their names they writ.O Dublin, &c.

The brewers met within their hall,And spoke in lofty strains,These halfpence shall not pass at all,They want so many grains.O Dublin, &c.

The tailors came upon this pinch,And wish'd the dog in hell,Should we give this same Wood an inch,We know he'd take an ell.O Dublin, &c.

But now the noble clothiersOf honour and renown,If they take Wood's halfpenceThey will be all cast down.O Dublin, &c.

The shoemakers came on the next,And said they would much rather,Than be by Wood's copper vext,Take money stampt on leather.O Dublin, &c.

The chandlers next in order came,And what they said was right,They hoped the rogue that laid the schemeWould soon be brought to light.O Dublin, &c.

And that if Wood were now withstood,To his eternal scandal,That twenty of these halfpence shouldNot buy a farthing candle.O Dublin, &c.

The butchers then, those men so brave,Spoke thus, and with a frown;Should Wood, that cunning scoundrel knave,Come here, we'd knock him down.O Dublin, &c.

For any rogue that comes to truckAnd trick away our trade,Deserves not only to be stuck,But also to be flay'd.O Dublin, &c.

The bakers in a ferment were,And wisely shook their head;Should these brass tokens once come hereWe'd all have lost our bread.O Dublin, &c.

It set the very tinkers mad,The baseness of the metal,Because, they said, it was so badIt would not mend a kettle.O Dublin, &c.

The carpenters and joiners stoodConfounded in a maze,They seem'd to be all in a wood,And so they went their ways.O Dublin, &c.

This coin how well could we employ itIn raising of a statue,To those brave men that would destroy it,And then, old Wood, have at you.O Dublin, &c.

God prosper long our tradesmen then,And so he will I hope,May they be still such honest men,When Wood has got a rope.O Dublin is a fine town, &c.