In which a pocket’s nearly fill’d
With sundry gold and silver coins.
Oh! could we see the ocean’s bed,
(Strewn o’er, no doubt, with mangled bones,
And where there are no bones, instead
Lie gems of rare and precious stones—
Jewels of value set in gold,
And gold engraved by skilful hands,
With marks of friendship on them told,
Near ’bliterated by the sands,)