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To the Author on his Ingenious Submarine Voyage.
ODE.
I.
Sages of old how vainly we admire!How fond's our Dotage on Antiquity!
Thô their Short Sights could nought descry
Unobvious to each Vulgar Eye;
The Idol'd Stagirite could rise no Higher
Than the thin Notion of Hecceity:
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Its Famous Ebbs to view,
His Weaker Eyes
Us'd to the Dark Recess of Occult Qualities,
Could not Sustain Truth's Glaring Light,
Dazl'd with the Bright Miracle, He cry'd,
O Wondrous unintelligible Tide!
In what Dark Coverings art Thou involv'd,
Not by Entelechy's or Acts resolv'd?
Why do I on its Fruitless Surface gaze?—
Guide Me some Triton thrô its Wandring Maze,
Take Me (He cry'd) and with an Eager Leap
Plunges into the Swelling Deep.
Yet the Philosopher no Triton found,
But in the Rapid Stream was Drown'd:
What Fruitless Tryals then would He have made,
Had He the Boundless Depth essay'd!
II.
We'll no more Trophies to Columbus raise,Nor to Vesputius's stollen Praise:
Too much We prize
Their mean Discoveries.
What has their Pregnant Wits brought forth
In the Long-expected Birth,
Beside the dull reiterated Scene of Earth?
Hurried by Storms, the unsought Ground
They rather Hapned on, than Found:
Those Random Gusts the Praise must have,
For a small Share our forc'd Discoverers can crave,
Who only were by Mechanism brave.
They in a Blind Neglect past by
Natures Great Excellence, Variety;
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When Wafted round its Chrystal Hemisphere.
Whilst Your more prying Eye
Could not upon its Surface terminate,
Nor could the Loudest Storms Your Zealous Search abate.
You thrô Mæandrous Caverns fearless rove,
Discerning plainly in their Cause
The Ocean's so-surprising Laws;
While We above
Blind with Amazement do in vain,
Strive by Effects t'unfold the Cause's endless Train.
You Neptune's Magazine have well survey'd,
And thro's Whole Watry Realm a Progress made.
Sure by some Amorous Syren in Your way
You were the Charms of Language taught;
She did impart
With her Best Skill the Gracefull Art,
And by that Bribe would Mutual Flames have bought.
III.
The Mariner no more will Nature cruel call,Thô He on Quicksands fall;
Thô Threatning Billows beat,
That on Sharp Rocks He split:
For taught by You none can a Shipwrack fear,
Thô Circumstantially Severe:
Since Sinking only does a Voyage prove
Into far Richer Scenes of Life, than these above
Go on, Bold Wit, and add to Nature's store,
All Her dark Nooks with curious search look o're:
Now into Her Remotest Corners pry,
And let no Lurking World escape Your Eye.
Rove thrô all Regions of the Sky,
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People that Vast Capacious Solitude:
Find where the Promptuary's of Fire are stow'd,
And in that Supermundial Heat
Room for some Cold Inhabitants create,
Search Nature thrô; till We no Blanks can see,
But find Her stretcht into Infinity.
Lancelot Manning, B. A. of Trinity College in Cambridge.
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