He life maintains on self-esteem, He plans, contrives, and lives by--scheme-- And blots good paper--many a ream. Distrest for those he never saw-- Of kings and nobles not in awe, He scorns their mandates, and their law. Relief he finds for others' woes-- The wants of all the world he knows-- His boots are only out at toes. Now, Europe's feuds distract his brains: Now, Asia's news his head contains-- But still his labour for his pains. The river Scheldt he opens wide, And Joseph's ships in triumph ride,-- The Dutchmen are not on his side. On great affairs condemned to fret,-- The interest on our foreign debt, He hopes good Louis may forget. He fears the banks will hurt our trade; And fall they must--without his aid-- Meanwhile his taylor goes unpaid. Our western posts, which Britons keep In spite of treaties, break his sleep-- He plans their capture--at one sweep. He grumbles at the price of flour, And mourns and mutters, many an hour, That congress have so little power, Although he has no ships to lose, The Algerines he loves to abuse-- And hopes to hear--some bloody news. The French (he thinks) will soon prepare To undertake some grand affair-- So 'tis but war "we need not care." 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. SKETCHES OF AMERICAN HISTORY[290] This American world, all our histories say, Secluded from Europe, long centuries lay, And peopled by beings whom white-men detest, The sons of the Tartars, that came from the west. These Indians, 'tis certain, were here long before ye all, And dwelt in their wigwams from time immemorial; In a mere state of nature, untutored, untaught, They did as they pleased, and they spoke as they thought--