All season’d high with luring lies, so couched to seem quite true;
“Here capital must multiply, wealth waits each working clan,
Here is—Eutopia itself, aye,—Paradise for man.”
VI.
Alas! alas! how very soon some too-confiding men,
Hearken to the seductive words said o’er and o’er again:
With home—they discontented grow, fancy—a fairer land,
Air-castles build in promis’d scenes, with wealth that courts the hand;
Seas cross’d—the colony must now for ever hold them fast.
Fresh Colonists are old one’s game, who pluck them great and small,