A grasshopper and a fly

A grasshopper and a fly,

In summer hot and dry,

In eager argument were met

About, about priority.

Says the fly to the grasshopper:

"From mighty race I spring,

Bright Phoebus was my dad 'tis known,

And I eat and drink with a king."

Says the grasshopper to the fly:

"Such rogues are still preferr'd;

Your father might be of high degree,

But your mother was but a turd."

So, rebel Jemmy Scott,

That did to the empire soar,

His father might be the Lord knows what,

But his mother we knew a whore,

A whore, a whore, a whore.