Go Numberleſs and ſpread the Finny Sail,
And find Britannia Nature's Darling Iſle;
There ſpread your Scaly Squadrons, and ſubmit,
Your Makers Law Commands, To Every Net.
Be You Their Wealth and plenteouſly ſupply
What Coldeſt Soil and Steril Climes deny.
Be You Their Envy'd Bleſſing, and attend
The willing Prey, to the unduſtrious Hand,
In proper Squadrons all your Troops divide,
And viſit Every Creek, with Every Tide.
Preſent your ſelves to every Hungry Door,
Employ The Diligent, and feed The Poor.
If they reject the Bounties of the Sea
Bid'em Complain [2] no more of Poverty.
Upbraid their ſloth, and then return to me,
[3] Viſit no other Port.
The punctual well inſtructed Fiſh obey,
And Scaly Squadrons ſpread the Northern Sea,
Directly point their Courſe, and find the Shore,
As if they'd all been here before.
Their equal Diſtance keep, divide and join,
- ↑ Without question they supply very much any Defect of Provisions, which either by the Sterillity of the Countrey, or rather want of Improvement, that People may labour under.
- ↑ Indeed 'tis strange to think they should let such a Wealth pass by them, and at the same time complain of Poverty.
- ↑ Visit no other Port, it is plain they are not found in any conside|rable quantity in any Seas but these, and 'tis supposed they return to the Northward again, where the Prodigious Breed must increase sufficiently to supply for the next Years Voyage.
