Are all made ſmooth to him, he knows his Way,
He neither fears the Night, nor Courts the Day:
Thro' all the Tempeſts Midnight Rage he ſlies,
Viſits the Bottoms now, anon the Skies.
When up to Heav'n he mounts, the Cheering Sun
Makes glad, and 'tis the ſame when darting down;
To all the Dark abyſs he ſhoots and ſee's,
The Hollow Deeps of Natures Nudities;
Till his Bleſt Port with ſteady Hand he finds:
And thus to Art he reconciles the Winds.
Thus vaniſhes the Horrid and the Wild,
And Nature's now with pleaſant Eyes beheld;
When Boreas mad with northern Vapours raves,
We ſmile, and with Contempt ſurvey the Waves
Art reconciles the Elements, and Trade
Can now with eaſe the Globes Extremes invade.
Eternal circulating Commerce flows,
And ev'ry Nation, ev'ry Nation knows.
Torrid and Frigid ſcale, and joyn the Poles,
And far as Wind can blow, or Water rolls,
Ships ſail, and Men in ſearch of Wealth will trace
All the Meanders of the Univerſe.
The rough, the ſmooth, to men of Art ſubmit;
The Northern Winter Cold, or Southern Heat,
With equal Safety, and with equal Eaſe,
Calm Caſpian Lakes, and Caledonian Seas.
By Natures Aid, and Arts concurring Law,
