Page:The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift, Volume 7.djvu/202

In stock three hundred thousand pounds;
I have in view a lord's estate;
My manors all contiguous round;
A coach and six, and serv'd in plate!

Thus, the deluded bankrupt raves;
Puts all upon a desperate bet;
Then plunges in the Southern waves,
Dipt over head and ears — in debt.

So, by a calenture misled,
The mariner with rapture sees,
On the smooth ocean's azure bed,
Enamell'd fields and verdant trees:

With eager haste he longs to rove
In that fantastick scene, and thinks
It must be some enchanted grove;
And in he leaps, and down he sinks.

Five hundred chariots just bespoke,
Are sunk in these devouring waves,
The horses drown'd, the harness broke,
And here the owners find their graves.

Like Pharaoh, by directors led;
They with their spoils went safe before;
His chariots, tumbling out the dead,
Lay shattered on the Red Sea shore.

Rais'd up on Hope's aspiring plumes,
The young adventurer o'er the deep
An eagle's flight and state assumes,
And scorns the middle way to keep.

On paper wings he takes his flight,
With wax the father bound them fast;
The wax is melted by the height,
And down the towering boy is cast.

A mo-