Bermudas
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- Where the remote Bermudas ride
- In th' Oceans bosome unespy'd,
- From a small Boat, that row'd along,
- The listning Winds receiv'd this Song.
- What should we do but sing his Praise
- That led us through the watry Maze,
- Unto an Isle so long unknown,
- And yet far kinder than our own?
- Where he the huge Sea-Monsters wracks,
- That lift the Deep upon their Backs.
- He lands us on a grassy Stage;
- Safe from the Storms, and Prelat's rage.
- He gave us this eternal Spring,
- Which here enamells every thing;
- And sends the Fowl's to us in care,
- On daily Visits through the Air.
- He hangs in shades the Orange bright,
- Like golden Lamps in a green Night.
- And does in the Pomgranates close,
- Jewels more rich than Ormus show's.
- He makes the Figs our mouths to meet;
- And throws the Melons at our feet.
- But Apples plants of such a price,
- No Tree could ever bear them twice.
- With Cedars, chosen by his hand,
- From Lebanon, he stores the Land.
- And makes the hollow Seas, that roar,
- Proclaime the Ambergris on shoar.
- He cast (of which we rather boast)
- The Gospels Pearl upon our Coast.
- And in these Rocks for us did frame
- A Temple, where to sound his Name.
- Oh let our Voice his Praise exalt,
- Till it arrive at Heavens Vault:
- Which thence (perhaps) rebounding, may
- Eccho beyond the Mexique Bay.
- Thus sung they, in the English boat,
- An holy and a chearful Note,
- And all the way, to guide their Chime,
- With falling Oars they kept the time.
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