Classic Poem

Indian Nimphe, An

An Indian Nimphe invited had of yore
our Puny travells to a westerne shore
To view thos naked beauties which one world
by fames great racket to another Hurld
To see and wonder at a lovely Queene
in spight off age clad in perpetuall Greene
To bless or wonder that she is as chast
as is the sea; and but by waves imbrac't,
Which Neptune sends to court, and breath which shee
respires in soft perfumes off spicery.
Ffraughted with thousand sweets they dance away
ffaining exundant joyes off theyr glad prey.
But she with statly majesty disdaines
all ruder Courtship, even theyr god remaines
Ffoyld with her constant temper whose escapes
yet infinite are of the intended rapes
By force of Hurocanes and tempests dire
whilsts they poore Gods quench not but fan theyr fire.
As yet the axe steeld for relentinge, neere
had torne an Echoe from her brayded hayre
Off natures cheerfull hue wherin dwell choice
of daintiest color'd birds, and daintie voice.
The wind doth combe thes locks, theyr natures sent
and birds imbellish are theyr ornament.
Meane while the sea's her glass wherin behold
how rich a pearl and think the world the mould.
As yet no hungry culter did invade
her pregnant wombe nor painfull plowmans trade
Ffurrowd her intrayles, yet no greedy quest
off miners art (soliciting unrest)
Rifles her mine of secret treasures which
'tis hop'd must render spoyles as fam'd as rich.
Such was the prize for which with winged flame
our rivall passions post, our fancies frame
No small incounters, streight our Countrey's Greece,
each is a Jason though but one poore fleece.
And now our Anchors weigh'd, an easterne Gale
waytes on our wishes, each man fills a sayle
With breath from posting thoughts, which seeme confin'd
unless theyr lightnings course outstrip the wind.
Whilst it againe is Jealous of the prize
ffor which thes urge such hast and therfore hies
With all its wings, ther needs no Pilots bee
(thither the winds are bound as well as wee).
The sea it self affoords us guides and they
ever before us trace our pathles way
Poynted with skips of lusty daunc as though
for us theyd leave theyr residence below.
Such are Bonitoes and the nimble scull
of painted Dolphins: thes as active full
As if ffrom th'Ar'ry region they might claime
a birth and thither wold ascend againe.
We Cast our eyes abroad which intertaine
the mind from all parts with delight; the mayne
Spreads all her wonders in as ample store
as if 'twere Neptunes Birthday each vast shore
And heaven spectators whence may Jove descry
the flauke to dive and the dumbe fish to fly.
Thes are th' Atlanticks pride which when they make
our ssilver sayles they suddenly betake
Themselves to wonder, Tropick Birds do soare,
so does the Alcatrace in strife who more
Lessens their prospect till they view what ere
of sea or land perfectes that hemisphere
But tow'ring thus, poore birds abuz'd, they find
that which they clime to see stoln by the wind
And therfore clipping cut the Ayre as they
had us in chase and we theyr frighted prey.
The flying fish, beaten and taught to shun
the scudding Dolphin whom to overrunn,
She takes her flight when instantly she spies
the stooping Alcatrace who downward hies
With speed of thunders shot; the present then
makes her to seeke her former feare ageyn.
Ill fated she to whom rare guift is lent
to teach her death in double element
But now she quitts her feares and boldly deemes
to make this Holyday wherin it seemes
All thinges have respite priviledg'd, she climes
an higher pitch then Custom'd and by-times
With nimble rowze shakes of her bryny dew
and threedes the Ayre, as iff she-only flew.
A strainge delight but stranger yet, judge whether
fishes to fly or fly without a feather.
The sword fish and the Thresher now forget
theyr mighty foe and glory usd to whett
That monsters rage which when exited sends
abroad a tempest and a prospect lends
To wandring Saylers that may them informe
the seas leviathan has raizd the storme,
He whose immense extended chambers roare
to silence Basilisk and Canon more
Then they do whispers, Plutoes Dog must bayle
spight of infernall vaults and hang his tayle.
Nay more through spatious womb from monstrous spout
he shootes up rivers such as may no doubt
Lend heavenes a shewr which water may the maine
wayte the next fight and it returns againe
But now the seas have truce and the Huge whale,
hull like a naked Caracke reft of sayle
Whos masts and ornaments are spent: He towles
on surface of the endles deepe and towles
Admiring eyes to view his spreading wake
which makes a Chanell in the rounding lake.
Vast are his finns and vaster sterne which guide
a moving Iland; such he seemes to ride
Upon the billows and unweildy floates
aloft to share a prospect of Our Boates
Att sight of which he bowes and beares his head.
Beneath the waters with such rareness led
To judge, the seagodds are imbarkt in thes
and Corkshod horses may go wher they please
But soone he falls a sterne. We next survey
the hungry shark who now forgetts to prey
And shuts his trenchant teeth wherwith he sheeres
the naked limbs from bathing passengers,
The rest in sculls and some in armies spred
the spatious coverlett of Thetis bed;
In rancks and files we heer behold the state
of Tritons musters which to terminate
The lordly eye wants a Command; such are
swift Porpises and lazy Grampons farre
Denouncing theyr approach and in theyr way
scattring the billows to divulge thery sway
Wherwith the seas a breach: But now behold
a strainger tale then ever Pliny told,
The Booby bird (such is she tearmd) is found
on the Indian coast: sometimes to sea shees bound
An hundred leagues or more to fish for prey
ther like the Gull she hulls away the day.
When if her Curious Centinells descry
the radiant Glimpse of a white sayle to fly
Within the cercuit of her watch, she leaves
Care of hir fishing and herself deceaves.
Poore bird: like silly lark fond of the Glare
of glass admird which proves to be a snare,
Like Her she hovers till that she be tane
and feasts her eye with her most deadly bane:
Views and reviews the stately stern, the stem
Canvase and shrowds, and then those agen,
The tall streight masts with the top gallant fflaggs
and waving streamers with theyr beautes raggs
Sweeping the deepe, Tackle and numeros geere,
as are the tedious minutes off the yeere.
At lenght some Mariner holds out his hand
(ther needs nor lure nor voice), a dumb Command
Invites and she obeys her foolish fate,
of all wild things the most unfortunate.
The Dottrell sports her liberty away
perhaps her life in her most antick play
But this fond foole ventures as much for naught
as if she long'd or studied to be caught.
Thus we beguile the slow pac'd houres and runn
through many climates till the burning sun
Meets us and loose his shaddow. Then he hies
to northern Tropicke when as our way lies
South whenc he came, and parting thus restore
the shade reverst which he had lost before.
Ffar have we left a stern the coast of Spaine
and eyther cape, the shores of the vast mayn
Wher streights of famous Gibraltar divides
Europe from sister Africka; bysides
Maderaes and thos blest Canaries which
the springs of poetts raptures have made rich,
The lofty Pike off Teneriff that beares
his head in highest region and weares
snow upon his shoulders made,
Bee't thought, to light the world to such a trade.
But o that other trade which is at hand
I meane that winde from sable negroes land
Which rides still west and doth gods wonders teach
to mortall men invading that long reach
As now to us who all amazd admir'd,
that daring nervian, or els inspird,
Who first exposd his fate to spoone before
this constant trade and seek the golden shore
Which then none knew nor could mans thoughts descry
distanc or truth of a discovery;
Thus as intraunct we see and ruminate
nothing but mervailes. In this pleasing state
We dream'd and quench our longinge till we heare
the topmast-head proclaime the land, see ther,
Ther on the larbord bough, low land; o wher
we all repli'd. That is not it; that ther
Thats sure some painted thing of Cerces charme
that covers rocks and is ordaind for harme;
Faire things are deadly and do then at last
teach us our danger when the cure is past.
O feare betimes for sure we have not seene
a land like this never so drest in greene
Or els our eyes unhappy have forgot
use of theyr sence and we distinguish not;
Ffalse are they then for if thes things prove true
and each a perspective they were but due.
But fy; why dread we such adventure? Such
a tombe deserves us, heer then let us touch
And no wher els though we were warnd to die
for here grow odours for our obsequy.
O we that tast bless thes perfumes and sing
thanks to so sweet a wellcome, each man fling
Ecchoes of joy up to the Olimpicke. Ther
the Pillgrimes saints shall Celebrate our Cheere.

Whilst thus our dearest pulses beat, we find
ourselves in pleasant roade; it seems designd
For frendly intertainments. Heere we cast
our weighty anchors and do moore them fast,
Our demiculverins salute the shore
Ffrom whence the woods record them ore and ore.English