148 Some the gall'd ropes with dauby marline bind, Or sear-cloth masts with strong tarpaulin coats: To try new shrouds one mounts into the wind, And one below their ease or stiffness notes. 149 Our careful monarch stands in person by, His new-cast cannons' firmness to explore: The strength of big-corn'd powder loves to try, And ball and cartridge sorts for every bore. 150 Each day brings fresh supplies of arms and men, And ships which all last winter were abroad; And such as fitted since the fight had been, Or, new from stocks, were fallen into the road. 151 The goodly London in her gallant trim (The Phoenix daughter of the vanish'd old). Like a rich bride does to the ocean swim, And on her shadow rides in floating gold. 152 Her flag aloft spread ruffling to the wind, And sanguine streamers seem the flood to fire; The weaver, charm'd with what his loom design'd, Goes on to sea, and knows not to retire. 153 With roomy decks, her guns of mighty strength, Whose low-laid mouths each mounting billow laves; Deep in her draught, and warlike in her length, She seems a sea-wasp flying on the waves. 154 This martial present, piously design'd, The loyal city give their best-loved King: And with a bounty ample as the wind, Built, fitted, and maintain'd, to aid him bring. 155 By viewing Nature, Nature's handmaid, Art, Makes mighty things from small beginnings grow: Thus fishes first to shipping did impart, Their tail the rudder, and their head the prow. 156 Some log perhaps upon the waters swam, An useless drift, which, rudely cut within, And, hollow'd, first a floating trough became, And cross some rivulet passage did begin. 157 In shipping such as this, the Irish kern, And untaught Indian, on the stream did glide: Ere sharp-keel'd boats to stem the flood did learn, Or fin-like oars did spread from either side. 158 Add but a sail, and Saturn so appear'd, When from lost empire he to exile went, And with the golden age to Tiber steer'd, Where coin and commerce first he did invent. 159 Rude as their ships was navigation then; No useful compass or meridian known; Coasting, they kept the land within their ken, And knew no North but when the Pole-star shone. 160 Of all who since have used the open sea, Than the bold English none more fame have won: Beyond the year, and out of heaven's high way, They make discoveries where they see no sun. 161 But what so long in vain, and yet unknown, By poor mankind's benighted wit is sought, Shall in this age to Britain first be shown, And hence be to admiring nations taught.