EDWIN'S PILLS, &c, SONG

Now I'm seated, I'll be treated Like the Sophi on his throne; In my presence, Scoundrel peasants Shall not call their souls their own. My behest is, He who best is, Shall be fix'd musician chief: Ne'er the loser Shall shew nose here, But be transported like a thief. O tremendous Justice Midas, Who shall oppose wise Justice Midas?