Onward, methinks, and diligently slow,

The firm connected bulwark seems to grow,

Spreads its long arms amidst the watery roar,

Scoops out an empire, and usurps the shore—

shore—

While the pent ocean, rising o’er the pile,

Sees an amphibious world beneath him smile;

The slow canal, the yellow-blossom’d vale,

The willow-tufted bank, the gliding sail,

The crowded mart, the cultivated plain—

plain—

A new creation rescued from his reign.

Thus, while around the wave-subjected soil

Impels the native to repeated toil,

Industrious habits in each bosom reign,

And industry begets a love of gain.

Hence all the good from opulence that springs,

With all those ills superfluous treasure brings,

Are here display’d. Their much-lov’d wealth imparts

Convenience, plenty, elegance, and arts;

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