ON PROHIBITING THE SALE OF Dr. DAVID RAMSAY'S History of the Revolution of South-Carolina, in London, 1786

Some bold bully Dawson, expert in abusing, Having pass'd all his life in the practice of bruising, At last, when he thinks to reform and repent, And wishes his life had been soberly spent, Though a course of contrition in earnest begins, He scarcely can bear to be told of his sins.

So, the British, worn out with their wars in the west, Where burning and murder their prowess confest, When at last they agreed 'twas invain to contend, (For the days of their thieving were come to an end) They got their historians to scribble and flatter, And foolishly thought they could hush up the matter.

BUT RAMSAY arose, and with TRUTH on his side, Has told to the world what they labour'd to hide, With his pen of dissection, and pointed with steel, If they ne'er before felt—he has taught them to feel, Themselves and their projects has truly defin'd, And drag'd them to blush at the bar of mankind.

As the author himself, and the world might expect, They have treated his work with a surly neglect; In reply to his reason they splutter and rail, And, prompted by RAWDON, prohibit the sale.

BUT, alas! their chastisement is only begun— Thirteen are the states—and the tale is of one; When the twelve yet remaining their stories have told, The king will run mad—and the book will be sold.