 | The Sad Condition of a Distracted Kingdome |  |
5
The Baltick Sea, the Seas of France and Spaine,
The waves that glide by India, Africa,
Sufficient space for him to feed, and play
And chase the Orke. Myriads of miles at least
Are thought a prison by this Monstrous Beast,
And Nature is injurious that hath put
Him in a Goale, and in a dungeon shut.
Are Londoners in prison 'cause the Line
Limits their gadding, and their Outworks confine
Their pleasant walkes; the Ocean that surrounds
Our Island, washing all our English grounds
Speaks England but a Goale. Mans noble mind
VVithin this house compos'd of clay confinde,
Although it can ith' twinkling of an eye
On wings of swift imagination flye
Thorough the Vniverse, transcend the skie
And comment even on Gods immensitie;
Yet is a Captive and close prisoner,
(Our mixed Elements the Goalers are)
And only death can grant a full discharge,
And with his warrant the thrald soul inlarge.
But wherefore will Leviathan complaine
VVho for his rendevous hath all the Maine
And hundreth Seas? Because he cannot go
Into the Straits of Archipelago.
There the wise God of nature doth provide,
VVhere ships continually and Navies ride,
Many Charihdaes, Scyllaes dangerous rocks
Facing that Isle, where fed the fleecie flocks
Of Polypheme. That for the generall good
And his own safety, no Atlantick flood
Should bear this Monster: but where billowes break
At great Alcides Pillars, there they speak
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He enter should the Levant Sea, no Skif,
No vessell could be safe: nor he himselfe;
But every rock, and every shallow shelfe
VVould menace death, and danger: to prevent
VVhich inconveniences, wise nature meant,
He should be barr'd those Deeps, his duller eye
Not able Rocks and dangerous Syrts to spye;
VVhich would his too unweldy body teare
Peece-meale, and he must every minute feare
Present destruction. Should he be pursu'de
By covetous man (and certainly he wou'de)
VVhat rills of brinish water can he throw,
Into the ayre, able to overthrow
The largest ship, and with his massie taile,
More spread then some huge Carrike under saile,
Or'ewhelme and drowne all vessels. To save these
Mischiefs, he ne're shall wallow in those Seas.
| The Sad Condition of a Distracted Kingdome | |