THERE are twenty fine schemes held up by the great, To deceive silly souls, d'ye see? And render them passive for pure conscience sake, And mould them to fell tyranny; Yet for all their fine arts with their priests in their aid, Their threats and their deep policy, I'll laught them to scorn, while loudly I sing, The Rights of Man boys for me.

This world for the poor they say never was made, Their portion in the heav'ns be, And say that they envy them their happy lot, So certain's their felicity; But thank them for nought, if the heavens they could lett, Few joys there the poor would e'er see, For rents they must toil, and for taxes to boot, The Rights of Man then for me.

Then cheer up all you who have long been oppress'd, Aspire unto sweet liberty, No fetters were form'd for a nation to bind, That had the brave wish to be free; To Gallia then look and blush at your chains, And shake off all vile slavery, And let each man sing, till loud echoes ring, The Rights of Man boys for me.

As for me though in prison I oft have been cast, Because I would dare to be free, And though in black Newgate I now pen this song, My theme I've not altered you see, 250 In jail or abroad whatever betide, My struggles for freedom shall be. Whate'er fate bring, I shall think, speak and sing, The Rights of Man* boys for me.

* The composer of the above song, was the first, who as far as he knows, made use of the phrase “RIGHTS OF MAN,” which was on the following remarkable occasion: A man who had been a farmer, and also a miner, and had been ill-used by his landlords, dug a cave for himself by the sea side, at Marston Rocks, between Shields and Sunderland, about the year 1780, and the singularity of such a habitation, exciting the curiousity of many to pay him a visit; our author was one of that number. Exulting of the idea of a human being, who had bravely emancipated himself from the iron fangs of aristocracy, to live free from impost, he wrote extempore with chaulk, above the fireplace of this freedman, the following lines:

Ye landlords vile, who man's peace mar, Come levy rents here if you can; Your stewards and lawyers I defy, And live with all the RIGHTS OF MAN.

THAT conquering blade, who did us invade, Ev'n William the Norman by name, Among his proud band, he divided our land,   Nought leaving but slav'ry and shame, My poor boys, Nought leaving but slav'ry and shame.

These plundering bands, thus strengthen'd by lands, For ages have rul'd us with awe, Whilst we once so free, now without property, From conqu'rors received the law, My poor boys.

The priests them to aid, they lib'rally paid, And gave them good share of the spoil, 251 The poor to persuade, that if nothing they said, In heaven they should end all their toil, My poor boys.

Thus lords and priests, leagu'd together intrigu'd, Completely poor man to enthrall, And when thus befool'd, their vassals they rul'd, And kept them in chains one and all, My poor boys.

But now reason's ray, begins to display, To man his dear rights once again, While all wond'ring how, they've been duped until now, Make hast to declare they are men, My brave boys.

The sons and the heirs* of those old murderers, Observe how they fly now to arms, For mankind they see, are resolv'd to be free, Which every proud tyrant alarms, My brave boys.

Sad ruin's their fate, though they associate, No rents now the poor will soon pay, For when in a mass, like a flood o'er they pass, They'll sweep all their greatness away; My brave boys.

For whom do we toil and feed with our spoil? Is now through the nations the cry, Infuriate men sing, till heaven's concave ring, O, give me death or liberty! My brave boys, O, give me death or liberty!

* The associators