TO PETER PORCUPINE.

From Penn's famous city what hosts have departed,

The streets and the houses are nearly deserted,

But still there remain

Two Vipers, that's plain,

Who soon, it is thought, yellow flag will display;

Old Porcupine preaching,

And Fenno beseeching

Some dung-cart to wheel him away.

Philadelphians, we're sorry you suffer by fevers,

Or suffer such scullions to be your deceivers;

Will. Pitt's noisy whelp

With his red foxy scalp

Whom the kennels of London spew'd out in a fright,

Has skulk'd over here

To snuffle and sneer,

Like a puppy to snap, or a bull dog to bite.

If cut from the gallows, or kick'd from the post,

Such fellows as these are of England the boast

But Columbia's disgrace!

Begone from that place

That was dignified once by a Franklin and Penn,

But infested by you

And your damnable crew

Will soon be deserted by all honest men.