FEARE not poore muse, ’cause first to sing her fame, | |
| That’s yet scarce known, unless by map or name; | |
| A grand-childe to earth’s paradize is borne, | |
| Well lim’d, well nerv’d, faire, rich, sweete, yet forlorne. | |
| Thou blest director, so direct my verse, | 5 |
| That it may winne her people, friends, commerce; | |
| Whilst her sweet ayre, rich soile, blest seas, my penne | |
| Shall blaze and tell the natures of her men. | |
| New-England, happie in her new true stile, | |
| Wearie of her cause she’s to sad exile | 10 |
| Expos’d by her’s unworthy of her land, | |
| Intreates with teares Great Brittaine to command | |
| Her empire, and to make her know the time, | |
| Whose act and knowledge onely makes divine. | |
| A royall worke well worthy England’s king, | 15 |
| These natives to true truth and grace to bring. | |
| A noble worke for all these noble peares | |
| Which guide this state in their superiour spheres. | |
| You holy Aarons let your sensors nere | |
| Cease burning, till these men Jehovah feare. | 20 |
| Westward a thousand leagues a spatious land | |
| Is made unknown to them that it command. | |
| Of fruitfull mould, and no lesse fruitlesse maine | |
| Inrich with springs and prey high-land and plaine. | |
| The light well tempred, humid ayre, whose breath | 25 |
| Fils full all concaves betwixt heaven and earth, | |
| So that the region of the ayre is blest | |
| With what earth’s mortals wish to be possest. | |
| Great Titan darts on her his heavenly rays | |
| Whereby extreames he quells, and overswayes. | 30 |
| Blest is this ayre with what the ayre can blesse, | |
| Yet frequent ghusts doe much this place distresse; | |
| Here unseene ghusts doe instant on-set give, | |
| As heaven and earth they would together drive. | |
| An instant power doth surprize their rage, | 35 |
| In their vast prison, and their force asswage. | |
| Thus in exchange a day or two is spent, | |
| In smiles and frownes: in great yet no content. | |
| The earth grand parent to all things on earth, | |
| Cold, dry, and heavie, and the next beneath | 40 |
| The ayre, by nature’s arme with low discents, | |
| Is as it were intrencht; againe ascents | |
| Mount up to heaven by Jove’s omnipotence, | |
| Whose looming greenesse joyes the sea-mans sence. | |
| Invites him to a land if he can see, | 45 |
| Worthy the thrones of stately soveraigntie. | |
| The fruitfull and well watered earth doth glad | |
| All hearts, when Flora’s with her spangles clad, | |
| And yeelds an hundred fold for one, | |
| To feede the bee and to invite the drone. | 50 |
| O happie planter, if you knew the height | |
| Of planter’s honours where ther’s such delight; | |
| There nature’s bounties, though not planted are, | |
| Great store and sorts of berries great and faire: | |
| The filberd, cherry, and the fruitful vine, | 55 |
| Which cheares the heart and makes it more divine. | |
| Earth’s spangled beauties pleasing smell and sight | |
| Objects for gallant choyce and chiefe delight. | |
| A ground-nut there runnes on a grassie threed, | |
| Along the shallow earth as in a bed, | 60 |
| Yealow without, thin filmd, sweete, lilly white, | |
| Of strength to feede and cheare the appetite. | |
| From these our natures may have great content, | |
| And good subsistance when our meanes is spent. * * * * * | |
| The fowles that in those bays and harbours feede, | 65 |
| Though in their seasons they doe else-where breede, | |
| Are swans and geese, herne, phesants, duck and crane, | |
| Culvers and divers all along the maine: | |
| The turtle, eagle, partridge, and the quaile, | |
| Knot, plover, pigeons, which doe never faile, | 70 |
| Till sommer’s heate commands them to retire, | |
| And winter’s cold begets their old desire. | |
| With these sweete dainties man is sweetly fed, | |
| With these rich feathers ladies plume their head; | |
| Here’s flesh and feathers both for use and ease | 75 |
| To feede, adorne, and rest thee, if thou please. * * * * * | |
| The costly codd doth march with his rich traine: | |
| With which the sea-man fraughts his merry ship: | |
| With which the merchant doth much riches get: | |
| With which plantations richly may subsist, | 80 |
| And pay their merchants debt and interest. | |
| Thus ayre and earth, both land and sea yeelds store | |
| Of nature’s dainties both to rich and poore; | |
| To whom if heavens a holy vice-roy give, | |
| The state and people may most richly live: | 85 |
| And there erect a pyramy of estate, | |
| Which onely sinne and heaven can ruinate. | |
| Let deepe discretion this great work attend, | |
| What’s well begun for th’ most part well doth end. | |
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