The Poems of St. George Tucker of Williamsburg, Virginia 1752-1827 | ||
Ode VI
To Midas
Jonathan entreateth Midas not to starve the nation—proposeth a project for paying off the National Debt through the instrumentality of the S---y of the T---y.
Suae fortunae faber.
O greedy Midas! I've long since been told,
Whate'er you touched is instant turned to gold;
Thine alchemistic fingers, prithee, stop,
Or thou'lt not leave us all a single sop.
Whate'er you touched is instant turned to gold;
Thine alchemistic fingers, prithee, stop,
Or thou'lt not leave us all a single sop.
Those fingers from thy birth have been employed
With such well-timed precipitation,
That had the sacred college tried,
Thoud'st beat them all at transubstantiation.
With such well-timed precipitation,
That had the sacred college tried,
Thoud'st beat them all at transubstantiation.
Briareus had a hundred hands, but thou hast more,
Grasping at once this spacious globe around;
One hand embraces the Chinesian shore,
Beyond Ohio's banks another's found.
Grasping at once this spacious globe around;
One hand embraces the Chinesian shore,
Beyond Ohio's banks another's found.
Mountains and rivers, rocks and sugar trees,
Nankeens and China, green and bohea teas,
Are instant turned to gold whene'er you please,
O spare untouched our codfish, rice and bacon,
Or else the continent must for forsaken.
Nankeens and China, green and bohea teas,
Are instant turned to gold whene'er you please,
O spare untouched our codfish, rice and bacon,
Or else the continent must for forsaken.
94
Midas, much service might'st thou do the state,
Thy talents wert thou willing to exert;
Relieve the people from a grievous weight,
And give reward where there has been desert.
Thy talents wert thou willing to exert;
Relieve the people from a grievous weight,
And give reward where there has been desert.
My project may appear a little bold;
But sure I am, 'twill pay off honest claims:
Touch H---n, and K---x, and F---r A---s,
And turn the speculators all to gold;
Let Congress send them straightway to the mint,
They'll pay our debts—or else the devil's in't.
But sure I am, 'twill pay off honest claims:
Touch H---n, and K---x, and F---r A---s,
And turn the speculators all to gold;
Let Congress send them straightway to the mint,
They'll pay our debts—or else the devil's in't.
June 29, 1793
The Poems of St. George Tucker of Williamsburg, Virginia 1752-1827 | ||