University of Virginia Library

Far to the right where those blue hills arise,
And bathe their swelling bosoms in the skies,
The barks of commerce set the flapping sail,
And the dark sea-boy sues the busy gale;
There the deep warehouse shows its native store,
There flame the riches of a foreign shore;
Thick swarm the sons of trade on every hand,
And either India breathes along the strand;
Gold, give me gold, each bustler cries aloud,
As hope or fear alternate seize the crowd;
To careless eyes the love of pelf alone,
Seems to drain off the golden tide for one;
But closer view'd a various course it takes,
And wide meanderings in its passage makes;
Through many a social channel see it run,
In splendid heritage from sire to son;
From thence in many a mazy stream it flows,
And feels no ebb, no dull stagnation knows;
Thus nature and necessity agree
The social chain to stretch from land to sea.
Thus e'en the miser, tho' his sordid soul
Loves but himself, befriends perforce the whole.
Ask you a stronger proof? Place wealth alone
With some hard niggard, lock up all his own:
Pile bills, and bags, and bonds upon his shelf,
And a close prisoner chain him to his pelf.
Unhappy man! from family and friends,
From all which heav'n in soft compassion sends,
From touch of kindred, tune of tender speech,
And exil'd from the social passion's reach;
How would he sigh, tho' every hope were vain,
And buy a glance at man with half his gain!
How, at some chink or crevice would he ply,
And envy each poor beggar limping by!
Far happier he, who breasting every wind,
Lives on the common mercy of his kind,
Who roams the world to tell his piteous case,
And dies as last amidst the human race.