Complete Works of Edward Young, page 61
Well weighs; to starry Science soars;
Reads warm in life (dead colour’d by the pen)
The sites, tongues, interests of the ball:
Who studies trade, he studies all;
Accomplish’d merchants are accomplish’d men.
STRAIN THE FOURTH.
THE ARGUMENT.
PINDAR invoked. His praise. — Britain should decline war, but boldly assert her trade. Encouraged from the throne. Britain’s condition without trade. — Trade’s character and surprising deeds. — Carthage. — Solomon’s temple. — St. Paul’s Church. — The miser’s character. — The wonderful effects of trade. — Why religion recommended to the merchant. — What false joy. What true. — What religion is to the merchant. — Why trade more glorious in Britons than others. How warmly, and how long, to be pursued by us. The Briton’s legacy. — Columbus. His praise. — America described. — Worlds still unknown. — Queen Elizabeth. — King George II. His glory navally represented.
How shall I farther rouse the soul?
How Sloth’s lascivious reign coutrol
By verse, with unextinguish’d ardour wrought?
How every breast inflame with mine?
How bid my theme still brighter shine
With wealth of words and unexhausted thought?
O thou Dircæan swan, on high,
Round whom familiar thunders fly,
While Jove attends a language like his own!
Thy spirit pour, like vernal showers;
My verse shall burst out with the flowers,
While Britain’s trade advances with her sun.
Though Britain was not born to fear,
Grasp not at bloody fame from war;
Nor war decline, if thrones your right invade.
Jove gathers tempest black as night;
Jove pours the golden flood of light;
Let Britain thunder, or let Britain trade.
Britain a comet, or a star,
In commerce this, or that in war:
Let Britons’ shout, earth, seas, and skies-resound.
Commerce to kindle, raise, preserve,
And spirit dart through every nerve,
Hear from the throne a voice through time renown’d.
So fall from heaven the vernal showers,
To cheer the glebe, and wake the flowers;
The bloom call’d forth sees azure skies display’d;
The bird of voice is proud to sing;
Industrious bees ply every wing,
Distend their cells, and urge their golden trade.
Trade once extinguish’d, Britain’s sun
Is gone out too; his race is run;
He shines in vain; her isle’s an isle indeed,
A spot too small to be o’ercome.
Ah dreadful safety, wretched doom!
No foe will conquer what no foe can feed.
Trade’s the source, sinew, soul of all;
Trade’s all herself; hers, hers, the ball;
Where most unseen, the goddess still is there:
Trade leads the dance, Trade lights the blaze;
The courtier’s pomp, the student’s ease!
’Twas Trade at Blenheim fought, and closed the war.
What Rome and all her gods defies?
The Punic oar. Behold it rise
And battle for the world! Trade gave the call:
Rich cordials from his naval art
Sent the strong spirits to his heart,
That bid an Afric merchant grasp the ball.
Where is, on earth, Jehovah’s home?
Trade mark’d the soil, and built the dome,
In which His Majesty first deign’d to dwell;
The walls with silver sheets o’erlaid,
Rich, as the sun, through gold unweigh’d;
Bent the moon’d arch, and bid the column swell.
Grandeur unknown to Solomon I
Methinks the labouring earth should groan
Beneath yon load; created, sure, not made!
Servant and rival of the skies!
Heaven’s arch alone can higher rise:
What hand immortal raised thee? “Humble Trade.”
Where hadst thou been if, left at large,
Those sinewy arms that tugg’d the barge,
Had caught at pleasure on the flowery green?
If they that watch’d the midnight star
Had swung behind the rolling car,
Or fill’d it with disgrace, where hadst thou been?
As by repletion men consume,
Abundance is the miser’s doom;
Expend it nobly: he that lets it rust,
Which, passing numerous hands, would shine,
Is not a man, but living mine,
Foe to the gods, and rival to the dust.
Trade barbarous lands can polish fair,
Make earth well worth the wise man’s care;
Call forth her forests, charm them into fleets;
Can make one house of human race;
Can bid the distant poles embrace;
Hers every sun, and India India meets.
Trade monarchs crowns, and arts imports,
With bounty feeds, with laurel courts:
Trade gives fair Virtue fairer still to shine;
Enacts those guards of gain, the Laws;
Exalts e’en Freedom’s glorious cause. —
Trade! warn’d by Tyre, O make Religion thine!
You lend each other mutual aid:
Why is Heaven’s smile in wealth convey’d?
Not to place vice, but virtues, in our power.
Pleasure declined is luxury,
Boundless in time and in degree;
Pleasure enjoy’d, the tumult of an hour.
False joy’s a discomposing thing,
That jars on Nature’s trembling string,
Tempests the spirits, and untunes the frame:
True joy, the sunshine of the soul,
A bright serene that calms the whole;
Which they ne’er knew, whom other joys inflame.
Merchant! religion is the care
To grow as rich — as angels are;
To know false coin from true; to sweep the main;
The mighty stake secure, beyond
The strongest tie of field or fund:
Commerce gives gold, religion makes it gain.
Join, then, religion to thy store,
Or India’s mines will make thee poor.
Greater than Tyre, O bear a nobler mind,
Sea-sovereign isle! Proud War decline,
Trade patronize: what glory thine,
Ardent to bless, who couldst subdue, mankind!
Rich commerce ply with warmth Divine
By day, by night: the stars are thine;
Wear out the stars in trade! Eternal run,
From age to age, the noble glow,
A rage to gain, and to bestow,
While ages last: in trade burn out the sun!
Trade, Britain’s all, our sires sent down
With toil, blood, treasure, ages won:
This Edgar great bequeath’d; this, Edward bold.
Let Frobishers, let Raleighs fire!
O let Columbus’ shade inspire!
New worlds disclose, with Drake surround an old.
Columbus! scarce inferior fame
For thee to find, than Heaven to frame,
That womb of gold and gem: her wide domain
An universe, her rivers seas;
Her fruits, both men and gods to please;
Heaven’s fairest birth, and, but for thee, in vain!
Worlds still unknown deep shadows wrap:
Call wonders forth from Nature’s lap;
New glory pour on her Eternal Sire.
O noble search! O glorious care!
Are ye not Britons? Why despair?
New worlds are due to such a godlike fire.
Swear by the great Eliza’s soul,
That Trade, as long as waters roll —
Ah! no; the gods chastise my rash decree:
By great Eliza do not swear;
For thee, O George, the gods declare,
And thou for them! Late time shall swear by thee.
Truth, bright as stars, with thee prevails;
Full be thy fame, as swelling sails;
Constant as tides thy mind, as masts elate;
Thy justice, an unerring helm
To steer Britannia’s fickle realm;
Thy numerous race, sure anchor of her state!
STRAIN THE FIFTH.
THE ARGUMENT.
WHAT is the bound of Britain’s power. Beyond that of the most famed in history. — The sign Lyra. — What the constellations are. Argo. The Whale. The Dolphin. Eridanus. The Lion. Libra. Virgo. Berenice. — The British ladies censured. — The moon. — What the sea is. — Apostrophe to the emperor. The Spanish Armada. — How Britain should speak her resentment. — What gives power. What navies do in war. — The Tartar. — Mogul. — Africa. — China. — Who master of the world. — What the history of the world is. — The genealogy of glory. Mistakes about it. — Peace the merchant’s harvest. — Ships of Divine origin. — Merchants ambassadors. — The Briton’s voyage. — Praise the food of glory. — Britain’s record.
BRITANNIA’S state what bounds confine?
(Of rising thought, O golden mine!)
Mountains, Alps, streams, gulfs, oceans, set no bound:
She sallies till she strikes the star;
Expanding wide, and launching far
As wind can fly, or rolling wave resound.
Small isle — for Cæsars; for the son
Of Jove, who burst from Macedon;
For gorgeous easterns blazing o’er mankind!
Then, when they call’d the world their own,
Not equal fame from fable shone:
They rose to gods, in half thy sphere confined.
Here no demand for Fancy’s wing;
Plain Truth’s illustrious: as I sing,
O hear yon spangled harp repeat my lay!
Yon starry lyre has caught the sound,
And spreads it to the planets round,
Who best can tell where ends Britannia’s sway.
The skies (fair-printed page!) unfold
The naval fame of heroes old;
As in a mirror, show th’ adventurous throng:
The deeds of Grecian mariners
Are read by gods, are writ in stars,
And noble verse that shall endure as long.
The skies are records of the main:
Thence Argo listens to my strain;
Chiron, for song renown’d, his noble rage
For naval fame and song renews,
As Britain’s fame he hears and views;
Chiron, the Shovel of a former age.
The Whale (for late I sung his praise)
Pours grateful lustre on my lays:
How smiles Arion’s friend with partial beams!
Eridanus would flatter, too,
But jealousies his smile subdue;
He fears a British rival in the Thames.
In pride the Lion lifts his mane,
To see his British brothers reign
As stars below: the Balance, George! from thine,
Which weighs the nations, learns to weigh
More accurate the night and day;
From thy fair daughters Virgo learns to shine.
Of Britain’s court ye lesser lights!
How could the wise-man gaze whole nights
On Richmond’s eye, on Berenice’s Hair!
But, Oh! you practise shameful arts;
Your own retain, seize others’ hearts:
Pirates, not merchants, are the British fair.
This truth I swear by Cynthia’s beam.
Pale queen! be flush’d at Britain’s fame;
And, rolling, tell the nations, o’er the main,
To share her empire is thy pride.
He, mighty Power! who curbs the tide,
Uncurbs, extends, throws wide Britannia’s reign.
What is the main, ye kings renown’d?
Britannia’s centre, and your bound:
Austrian! where’er leviathan can roll,
Is Britain’s home; and Britain’s mine,
Where’er the ripening sun can shine:
Parts are for emperors; for her, the whole.
Why, Austrian, wilt thou hover still
On doubtful wing, and want the skill.
To see thy welfare in the world’s? Too late
Another Churchill thou mayest find,
Another Churchill, not so kind,
And other Blenheims, big with other fate.
Ill thou remember’st, ill dost own,
Who rescued an ungrateful throne;
Ill thou consider’st that the kind are brave;
Ill dost thou weigh that in Time’s womb
A day may sleep, a day of doom,
As great to ruin as was that to save.
How wouldst thou smile to hear my strain,
Whose boasted inspiration’s vain!
Yet what, if my prediction should prove true?
Know’st thou the fatal pair who shine
O’er Britain’s trading empire? Thine,
As one rejected, what, if one subdue?
What naval scene adorns the seat
Of awful Britain’s high debate,
Inspires her counsels, and records her power?
The nations know, in glowing balls
On sinking thrones the tempest falls,
When her august assembled senates lour.
O language fit for thoughts so bold!
Would Britain have her anger told,
Ah! never let a meaner language sound
Than that which prostrates human souls,
Through heaven’s dark vault impetuous rolls,
And Nature rocks, when angry Jove has frown’d.
Not realms unbounded, not a flood
Of natives, not expense of blood,
Or reach of counsel, gives the world a lord:
Trade calls him forth, and sets him high
As mortal man o’er men can fly:
Trade leaves poor gleanings to the keenest sword.
Nay, hers the sword! For fleets have wings;
Like lightning fly to distant kings;
Like gods descend at once on trembling states.
Is war proclaim’d? Our wars are hurl’d
To farthest confines of the world,
Surprise your ports, and thunder at your gates.
The king of tempests. Æolus,
Sends forth his pinion’d people thus
On rapid errand: as they fly, they roar,
And carry sable clouds, and sweep
The land, the desert, and the deep:
Earth shakes, proud cities fall, and thrones adore!
The fools of nature ever strike
On bare outsides; and loathe, or like,
As glitter bids; in endless error vie;
Admire the purple and the crown.
Of human Welfare and Renown,
Trade’s the big heart; bright empire, but their eye.
Whence Tartar Grand, or Mogul Great?
Trade gilt their titles, power’d their state;
While Afric’s black, lascivious, slothful breed,
To clasp their ruin, fly from toil;
That meanest product of their soil,
Their people, sell; one half on t’ other feed.
Of Nature’s wealth from Commerce rent,
Afric’s a glaring monument:
‘Mid citron forests and pomegranate groves
(Cursed in a Paradise I) she pines;
O’er generous glebe, o’er golden mines,
Her beggar’d, famish’d, tradeless native roves.
Not so thine, China, blooming wide!
Thy numerous fleets might bridge the tide;
Thy products would exhaust both Indias’ mines:
Shut be thy gate of trade, or (woe
To Britain’s!) Europe ‘twill o’erflow. —
Ungrateful song! her growth inspires thy lines.
Britain! to these, and such as these,
The river broad and foaming seas,
Which sever lands to mortals less renown’d,
Devoid of naval skill or might,
Those sever’d parts of earth unite:
Trade’s the full pulse that sends their vigour round.
Could, Oh, could one engrossing hand
The various streams of Trade command,
That, like the sun, would gazing nations awe:
That awful power the world would brave,
Bold War and Empire proud his slave;
Mankind his subjects; and his will, their law.
Hast thou look’d round the spacious earth?
From Commerce, Grandeur’s humble birth:
To George from Noah, empires living, dead,
Their pride, their shame, their rise, their fall, —
Time’s whole plain chronicle is all
One bright encomium, undesign’d, on Trade.
Trade springs from Peace, and Wealth from Trade,
And Power from Wealth; of Power is made
The god on earth: hail, then, the dove of Peace,
Whose olive speaks the raging flood
Of war repress’d! What loss of blood!
War is the death of Commerce and Increase.
Then perish War! — Detested War!
Shalt thou make gods, like Cæsar’s star?
What calls man fool so loud as this has done,
From Nimrod’s down to Bourbon’s line?
Why not adore too, as Divine,
Wide-wasting storms, before the genial sun?
Peace is the merchant’s summer clear;
His harvest, — harvest round the year:
For Peace with laurel every mast be bound,
Each deck carouse, each flag stream out,
Each cannon sound, each sailor shout!
For Peace let every sacred ship be crowned.
Sacred are ships, of birth Divine:
An angel drew the first design;
With which the patriarch nature’s ruins braved:
Two worlds aboard, an old and new,
He safe o’er foaming billows flew:
The gods made human race; a pilot saved.
How sacred, too, the merchant’s name!
When Britain blazed meridian fame,
Bright shone the sword, but brighter Trade gave law:
Merchants in distant courts revered,
Where prouder statesmen ne’er appeared;
Merchants ambassadors, and thrones in awe!
’Tis theirs to know the tides, the times,
The march of stars, the births of climes;
