IN these bold times, when Learning's sons explore The distant climate and the savage shore; When wise Astronomers to India steer, And quit for Venus, many a brighter here;
While Botanists, all cold to smiles and dimpling, Forsake the fair, and patiently — go simpling; When every bosom swells with wond'rous scenes, Priests, cannibals, and hoity-toity queens:
Our bard into the general spirit enters, And fits his little frigate for adventures: With Scythian stores, and trinkets deeply laden, He this way steers his course, in hopes of trading —
Yet ere he lands he‘ as ordered me before, To make an observation on the shore. Where are we driven? our reck'ning sure is lost! This seems a barren and a dangerous coast.
What a sultry climate am I under! Yon ill foreboding cloud seems big with thunder. There Mangroves spread, and larger than I've seen‘ em — Here trees of stately size — and turtles in‘ em —
Here ill-condition'd oranges abound — And apples (‘ takes up one and tastes it’ ), Bitter apples strew the ground. The place is uninhabited, I fear!
I heard a hissing — there are serpents here! O there the natives are — a dreadful race! The men have tails, the women paint the face! No doubt they're all barbarians. — Yes,‘ tis so,
I'll try to make palaver with them though; ‘ Tis best, however, keeping at a distance. Good Savages, our Captain craves assistance; Our ship's well stor'd; — in yonder creek we've laid her;
His honour is no mercenary trader; This is his first adventure; lend him aid, Or you may chance to spoil a thriving trade. His goods, he hopes are prime, and brought from far,
Equally fit for gallantry and war. What! no reply to promises so ample? I'd best step back — and order up a sample.
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