And leads his Furies to the fated shore.
And now the Bark, advancing o'er the main,
Drags her disastrous store of guilt and pain—
Approaches, baneful, spreads her dazzling snares,
Her glaring instruments of woe prepares,
To catch, malign, with many a practic'd wile,
And all the mazes of Delusion's guile,
The impious native, whom Corruption's hand
Has led to desolate his injur'd land.
Wide o'er the soil dire agents wing their way