A Water-Pirate

  Pause, stranger⁠—whence you lightly tread
  Bill Carr’s immoral part has fled.
  For him no heart of woman burned,
  But all the rivers’ heads he turned.
  Alas! he now lifts up his eyes
  In torment and for water cries,
  Entreating that he may procure
  One drop to cool his parched McClure!