The day will soon come, when the Judge and the
Ponderer,'

Will judge between thee, and the charge-daring

'Wanderer;'

Will say—'Thou who cast the first stone at thy wife,
Art thou without sin, and is spotless thy life?'

Ah! what if thy faults should 'outrival the sloe,'
And thy wife's, beside thine, should look 'whiter
than snow'!

Bethink thee! the old British Lion awoke,

Turns indignant, and treads out thy bag-full of smoke.
Spurn thy minions—the traitors, who counsel thee,
banish;

And the soldiers will quickly forget all their Spanish!