Where Mississippi laves the plain
He hopes the bold Kentucky swain,
Will seize the forts, and plague Old Spain:
Such morning whims, such evening dreams!
Through wakeful nights he plans odd schemes,
To dispossess her of those streams.
He prophesies, the time must come
When few will drink West India rum—
Our spirits will be proof at home.
The Tories on New Scotland's coast,
He thinks may of full bellies boast
In half a century—at most.
Then shakes his head, and shifts the scene—
Talks much about the "Empress Queen"—
And wonders what the Austrians mean?
He raves, and scolds and seems afraid
The States will break by China trade,
"Since specie for their tea is paid."
Then tells, that, "just about next June,
Lunardi in his new balloon
Will make a journey—to the moon."
Thus, all the business of mankind,
And all the follies we might find
Are huddled in his shattered mind.
'Till taught to think of new affairs,
At last, with death, he walks down stairs,
And leaves—the wide world to his heirs.
[289] Published in the Freeman's Journal, February 21, 1787. In the 1809 edition, which the text follows, 1784 is given as the date of composition.