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[Fed up with Hope by such, his Money's spent]

Fed up with Hope by such, his Money's spent,
But has no greater Prospect, than if Lent
To needy Noblemen, of it's return,
Who seldom Pay a Debt, but to the Urn.
Place-Brokers to Enquirers still speak Fair,
Blow up a Bubble Globe, which turns to Air
Like Lottery Projectors draw a Scheme,
How Thousands may be got,
If, if they Draw the Lot,
But Hit, or Miss, there's Profit still to them.