The Colonies of Bartas VVith the Commentarie of S. G. S. in diuerse places corrected and enlarged by the Translatour [i.e. William Lisle] |
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[O world of sundry kindes! O nature full of wonders!] |
 | The Colonies of Bartas |  |
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[O world of sundry kindes! O nature full of wonders!]
O world of sundry kindes! O nature full of wonders!For eu'ry part thereof, as from the rest it sunders,
It hath not only men of diuers haire and hew.
Of stature, humour, force; but of behauiour new:
Be't that a custome held at length a nature makes,
Or that the younger sort still after th' elder takes,
Or that the proper Lawes of diuers-coasted Realmes
Doe so much disagree, or these enflowing beames
Of th'vmour-altring Lights, that whirling neuer stint,
Here in our mindes below their heau'nly force emprint.
The Northen man is faire, the Southern fauor'd-hard;
One strong, another weake; one white, another sward;
Ones haire is fine and smooth anothers grosse and twinde:
One loues the bodies paine, another toyles the minde:
Some men are hoat and moist, some others hoat and dry,
Some merry, and other sad: He thunders out on hye,
This other speaketh small; he dudgen is and spightfull,
This other gentle and plaine; he slow, this other slightfull.
Some are vnconstant so they often change their thought;
And others ne're let goe conceits they once haue caught.
He typples day and night, and he loues abstinence;
One is a scatter-good, another spares expense:
One is for company, another in his moodes
Is like a Bugger-bo, and strayes amids the woodes.
One goes in leathern peltch, another richly dight;
On's a Philosopher, another borne to fight.
The middle man takes part of all the qualities
Of people dwelling neere the two extremities;
His body stronger is, but not his minde so franke,
As theirs who till the gleabes of Nilus fruitfull banke:
Again he's not so strong, but many wayes more fine,
Then they that drinke the streames of Donaw and of Rhine.
For in the sacred close of th'vniuersall Town
The southern men that ofte with ouer-musing sown,
And fall int' extasies, and vse to dreame and poue;
That measure how the heau'ns by rules appoynted moue,
And are so curious none other knowledge base
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The Northen, whose conceit in hand and singer lurkes,
That all what ere he list in wood and mettall workes,
And like Salmoneus with thunder-sound compares,
Hee's for the man of warre, and makes all cunning wares.
The Meane, as knowing well to gouerne an Estate,
Sits with a grauer grace in throne of Magistrate.
And to be short, the first seekes knowledge wondrously,
The second, handy-crafts; the third, good policy.
Though some skore yeares agone Themis that mendes abuses,
Apollo, Mercurie, Minerua with her Muses,
Haue taught their holy schooles as neer the Northen coast,
As Vulcan euer forg'd, or Mars encamp'd his Oast.
But eu'n among our selues that altogether mell,
And haue of all the world no more whereon to dwell
Then as it were a clot, how diuers are the fashions?
How great varietie? the Dutch of all our Nations
Is stout, but hir'd in Warre: the Spaniard soft and neat;
Th' Italian merciles; the Frenchman soone on heat.
The Dutch in counsaile colde, th'Italian althing weeting,
The Spaniard full of guile, the Frenchman euer fleeting.
Th'Italian finely feedes, the Spaniard doth but minse,
The Dutch fares like a clowne, the Frenchman like a Prince.
The Frenchman gently speakes, the Spaniard fierce and braue,
The German plaine and grosse, the Roman wise and graue.
The Dutch attire is strange, the Spanish is their owne,
Th'Italian sumptuous, and owers neuer knowne.
We braue an Enimie, th'Italian friendly lookes him,
The Dutchman strikes him straight, the Spaniard neuer brookes him.
We sing a cheerfull note the Tuscan like a sheepe,
The German seemes to howle, the Lusitan to weepe.
The Frenchpase thicke and short, the Dutch like battel-cocks,
The Spaniards Fencer-like, the Romans like an Oxe.
The Dutch in Loue is proud, th'Italian enuious,
The Frenchman full of mirth, the Spaniard furious.
Yet would th' Immortall God appoynt so strange a race
Of this great earthie bowle to couer all the face:
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Of sinne, which had as 'twere bestain'd their natiue soile,
Might his great mercy shew, and how the heauenly Sines
A little only moue, but not ore sway our mindes.
That in the furthest partes his seruants eu'rych one
A sacrifice of praise might offer to his throne:
And that his holy name from Isie Scythia
Might sound vnto the sandes of red-hoat Africa.
Nor should his treasures hid in far-asunder land
Created seeme in vaine, and neuer come to hand.
But that all cuntry coasts where Thetis enter-lies
Should trafficke one with oth'r and chaunge commodities.
For as a Citie large containes within her wall
Here th' Vniuersitie, and there the Princes hall;
Here men of handy-craftes, there marchant-venterers;
This lane all full of ware and shops of shoomakers,
That other chaunging coyne, that other working gould;
Here silke, there pots and cups; here leather to be sould,
There cloth; here hats and caps, there doublets redy-made;
And each among themselues haue vse of others trade:
So from the Canar Isles our pleasant Sugar comes,
And from Chaldæa Spice, and from Arabia gummes
That stand vs much instead both for parfume and plaster,
And Peru sends vs golde, and Damask alabaster:
Our Saffern comes from Spaine, our Iuory from Inde,
And out of Germany our Horse of largest kinde:
The skorched land of Chus yeelds Heben for our Chamber;
The Northen Baltike Sound emparts her bleakish Amber;
The frosty coast of Russe, her Ermins white as milke,
And Albion her Tinne, and Italy her Silke.
Thus eu'ry country payes her diuers tribute-rate
Vnto the treasury of th'vniuersall State.
And as the Persian Queene this prouince call'd her Chaines,
And that her stomachers; her plate this, that her traines;
Man may the like professe: what Desert so vntrad,
What Hill so wild and waste, what Region so bad;
Or what so wrackefull Sea, or what so barren Shore
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Some kinde of yearly rent, and grudging not his glory,
Vnto his happy life becomes contributorie?
These miores enameled, where many rooshing brookes
Enchase their winding wayes with glassie wauing crookes,
They stand for Garden-plots: their herbage, ere it fades,
Twise yearely sets on worke our two-hand mowing blades.
The plaine feilde Ceres heales, the stony Bacchus filles.
These ladders of the skie, these rough-aspiring Hilles,
The stoare houses of stormes, the forging-shops of thunders,
Which thou vntruly cal'st th'earthes faults & shameful wonders,
And think'st the liuing God (to say't I am aferd)
Created them of spight, or in creating err'd,
They bound the kingdomes out with euer-standing markes,
And for our shipping beare of timber goodly parks:
The same affoord thee stuffe to build thy roofed holde,
The same in winter-time defend thee from the colde:
They powre-out day and night the deep-enchanel'd Riuers,
That breed, and beare on them, to feede the neighbour liuers:
They remanure the lands with fruitfull cloudes and showers,
They helpe the Milles to turne, and stand instead of towers
And bulwarkes to defend Bellonaes angry wound,
And morter to the sea the Center of the ground.
The Wasternes of land that men so much amazeth,
Is like a common feild where store of cattell grazeth,
And whence by thousand heads they come our tylth to rood,
To furnish vs with furre, with leather, wood and food.
The sea it selfe that seemes for nothing else to sarue,
But eu'n to drowne the world (although it neuer swarue)
That rumbling ouer-heales so many a mighty land,
Where in the waters stead much wauing might corne stand;
A great store-place it is and vnd'r a watry plaine
Flocks numberles it feedes to feed mankind againe:
And of the cates thereof are thousand cities saru'd,
That could not otherwise but languish hunger staru'd,
As doth a Dolphin whom vpon the shore halfe-dead
The tyde vntrusty left when back-againe it fled:
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And causes day and night the reaking mists arise,
That still refresh our ayre, and downe in water flowing
Set, eu'n before our eyes, the grainy pipe a growing.
But shall I still be tost with Boreas boystrous puffes?
Still subiect to the rage of Neptunes counterbuffes?
And shall I neuer see my country-chimnies reake?
Alas my rowing failes, my boate begins to leake.
I am vndone, I am, except some gentle banke
Receaue, and that right soone, my wrack-reserued planke.
Ha France, I ken thy shore; thou reachest me thine arme:
Thou opnest wide thy lap to shend thy sonne from harme:
Nor wilt in stranger landes I roaming step in age;
Nor ore my bones triumphe Bresile anthropophage,
Nor Catay ore my fame, nor Peru ere my verse;
As thou my cradle wert, so wilt thou be my herse.
O thousand thousand times most happy land of price!
O Europes only pearle! O earthly Paradise!
All-hayle renowned France: from thee sprong many a Knight
That hath in former times his triumph-laurels pight
Vpon Euphrates bankes, and blood with Bilbo shed
Both at the sunnes vprist, and where he goes to bed:
Thou breedest many men, that bolde and happie dare
In works of handy-craft with Nature selfe compare:
Thou breedest many wits that with a skill diuine
Teach Ægypt, Greece and Roome, and ore the learned shine,
As ore the paler hewes doe glister golden yellowes,
The sunne aboue the starres, his floure aboue the fellowes:
Thy streames are little seas, thy Cyties Prouinces,
In building full of state, and gentle in vsages:
Thy soyle yeeldes good encrease, thine ayre is full of ease;
Thou hast for strong defence two mountaines and two Seas.
Th'e Ægyptian Crocodile disquiets not thy bankes,
The plaguie Lybian snakes with poyson-spotted flankes
Crawle not in broken pleights vpon thy flowry plaines,
Nor meats an aker out by length of dragling traines.
No Hyrcan Tigers flight boot-hails thy vaulted hilles,
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Thy wandring habitants, nor Cairik Water-horses
Drag vnd'r a rowling tombe thy childrens tender corses:
And though like Indy streames thy fairest riuers driue not
Among their pebbles golde, although thy mountaines riue not
With vaines of siluer vre, nor yet among thy greet
Carbuncles, Granats, Pearles are scattred at our feet:
Thy Cloth, thy Wooll, thy Woade, thy Salte, thy Corne, thy Wines,
More necessary fruits, are well-sufficient mines
T'entitle thee the Queene of all this earthly scope:
Peace is our only want. O God that holdest ope
Alwaies thine eyes on vs, we humbly thee desire,
Quench with thy mercy-drops this Fraunce-consuming fire.
O make our Aïer calme; deere Father vs deliuer,
And put thine angry shaftes againe into thy quiuer.
| The Colonies of Bartas | |