Stedman and Hutchinson, comps. A Library of American Literature:
An Anthology in Eleven Volumes. 1891.
Vols. IX–XI: Literature of the Republic, Part IV., 1861–1889
A Recommendation of New-England
By William Morrell (fl. 1625)F
That’s yet scarce known, unless by map or name;
A grand-childe to earth’s paradize is borne,
Well lim’d, well nerv’d, faire, rich, sweete, yet forlorne.
Thou blest director, so direct my verse,
That it may winne her people, friends, commerce;
Whilst her sweet ayre, rich soile, blest seas, my penne
Shall blaze and tell the natures of her men.
New-England, happie in her new true stile,
Wearie of her cause she’s to sad exile
Expos’d by her’s unworthy of her land,
Intreates with teares Great Brittaine to command
Her empire, and to make her know the time,
Whose act and knowledge onely makes divine.
A royall worke well worthy England’s king,
These natives to true truth and grace to bring.
A noble worke for all these noble peares
Which guide this state in their superiour spheres.
You holy Aarons let your sensors nere
Cease burning, till these men Jehovah feare.
Westward a thousand leagues a spatious land
Is made unknown to them that it command.
Of fruitfull mould, and no lesse fruitlesse maine
Inrich with springs and prey high-land and plaine.
The light well tempred, humid ayre, whose breath
Fils full all concaves betwixt heaven and earth,
So that the region of the ayre is blest
With what earth’s mortals wish to be possest.
Great Titan darts on her his heavenly rays
Whereby extreames he quells, and overswayes.
Blest is this ayre with what the ayre can blesse,
Yet frequent ghusts doe much this place distresse;
Here unseene ghusts doe instant on-set give,
As heaven and earth they would together drive.
An instant power doth surprize their rage,
In their vast prison, and their force asswage.
Thus in exchange a day or two is spent,
In smiles and frownes: in great yet no content.
The earth grand parent to all things on earth,
Cold, dry, and heavie, and the next beneath
The ayre, by nature’s arme with low discents,
Is as it were intrencht; againe ascents
Mount up to heaven by Jove’s omnipotence,
Whose looming greenesse joyes the sea-mans sence.
Invites him to a land if he can see,
Worthy the thrones of stately soveraigntie.
The fruitfull and well watered earth doth glad
All hearts, when Flora’s with her spangles clad,
And yeelds an hundred fold for one,
To feede the bee and to invite the drone.
O happie planter, if you knew the height
Of planter’s honours where ther’s such delight;
There nature’s bounties, though not planted are,
Great store and sorts of berries great and faire:
The filberd, cherry, and the fruitful vine,
Which cheares the heart and makes it more divine.
Earth’s spangled beauties pleasing smell and sight
Objects for gallant choyce and chiefe delight.
A ground-nut there runnes on a grassie threed,
Along the shallow earth as in a bed,
Yealow without, thin filmd, sweete, lilly white,
Of strength to feede and cheare the appetite.
From these our natures may have great content,
And good subsistance when our meanes is spent.
The fowles that in those bays and harbours feede,
Though in their seasons they doe else-where breede,
Are swans and geese, herne, phesants, duck and crane,
Culvers and divers all along the maine:
The turtle, eagle, partridge, and the quaile,
Knot, plover, pigeons, which doe never faile,
Till sommer’s heate commands them to retire,
And winter’s cold begets their old desire.
With these sweete dainties man is sweetly fed,
With these rich feathers ladies plume their head;
Here’s flesh and feathers both for use and ease
To feede, adorne, and rest thee, if thou please.
The costly codd doth march with his rich traine:
With which the sea-man fraughts his merry ship:
With which the merchant doth much riches get:
With which plantations richly may subsist,
And pay their merchants debt and interest.
Thus ayre and earth, both land and sea yeelds store
Of nature’s dainties both to rich and poore;
To whom if heavens a holy vice-roy give,
The state and people may most richly live:
And there erect a pyramy of estate,
Which onely sinne and heaven can ruinate.
Let deepe discretion this great work attend,
What’s well begun for th’ most part well doth end.