The Battle of the Summer Islands

What fruits they have, and how Heaven smilesUpon these late-discovered isles.

Aid me, Bellona! while the dreadful fightBetwixt a nation and two whales I write.Seas stain'd with gore I sing, advent'rous toil!And how these monsters did disarm an isle.

Bermuda, wall'd with rocks, who does not know?That happy island where huge lemons grow,And orange-trees, which golden fruit do bear,Th' Hesperian garden boasts of none so fair;Where shining pearl, coral, and many a pound,On the rich shore, of ambergris is found.The lofty cedar, which to heaven aspires,The prince of trees! is fuel to their fires;The smoke by which their loaded spits do turn,For incense might on sacred altars burn;Their private roofs on od'rous timber borne,Such as might palaces for kings adorn.The sweet palmettos a new Bacchus yield,With leaves as ample as the broadest shield,Under the shadow of whose friendly boughsThey sit, carousing where their liquor grows.Figs there unplanted through the fields do grow,Such as fierce Cato did the Romans show,With the rare fruit inviting them to spoilCarthage, the mistress of so rich a soil.The naked rocks are not unfruitful there,But, at some constant seasons, every year,Their barren tops with luscious food abound,And with the eggs of various fowls are crown'd.Tobacco is the worst of things, which theyTo English landlords, as their tribute, pay.Such is the mould, that the bless'd tenant feedsOn precious fruits, and pays his rent in weeds.With candied plantains, and the juicy pine,On choicest melons, and sweet grapes, they dine,And with potatoes fat their wanton swine.Nature these cates with such a lavish handPours out among them, that our coarser landTastes of that bounty, and does cloth return,Which not for warmth, but ornament, is worn;For the kind spring, which but salutes us here,Inhabits there, and courts them all the year.Ripe fruits and blossoms on the same trees live;At once they promise what at once they give.So sweet the air, so moderate the clime,None sickly lives, or dies before his time.Heaven sure has kept this spot of earth uncursed,To show how all things were created first.The tardy plants in our cold orchards placed,Reserve their fruit for the next age's taste;There a small grain in some few months will beA firm, a lofty, and a spacious tree.The palma-christi, and the fair papà,Now but a seed (preventing nature's law),In half the circle of the hasty yearProject a shade, and lovely fruits do wear.And as their trees in our dull region set,But faintly grow, and no perfection get,So, in this northern tract, our hoarser throatsUtter unripe and ill-constrained notes,While the supporter of the poets' style,Phoebus, on them eternally does smile.Oh! how I long my careless limbs to layUnder the plantain's shade, and all the dayWith am'rous airs my fancy entertain,Invoke the Muses, and improve my vein!No passion there in my free breast should move,None but the sweet and best of passions, love.

There while I sing, if gentle love be by,That tunes my lute, and winds the string so high,With the sweet sound of Saccharissa's nameI'll make the list'ning savages grow tame.--But while I do these pleasing dreams indite,I am diverted from the promised fight.

'Summer Islands': the Bermudas, which received the name of theSummer Islands, or more properly, Somers' Islands, from Sir GeorgeSomers, who was cast away on the coast early in the seventeenthcentury, and established a colony there.

'Bacchus yield': from the palmetto, a species of palm in the WestIndies, is extracted an intoxicating drink.

Of their alarm, and how their foesDiscover'd were, this Canto shows.

Though rocks so high about this island rise,That well they may the num'rous Turk despise,Yet is no human fate exempt from fear,Which shakes their hearts, while through the isle they hearA lasting noise, as horrid and as loudAs thunder makes before it breaks the cloud.Three days they dread this murmur, ere they knowFrom what blind cause th'unwonted sound may grow.At length two monsters of unequal size,Hard by the shore, a fisherman espies;Two mighty whales! which swelling seas had toss'd,And left them pris'ners on the rocky coast.One as a mountain vast, and with her cameA cub, not much inferior to his dam.Here in a pool, among the rocks engaged,They roar'd like lions caught in toils, and raged.The man knew what they were, who heretoforeHad seen the like lie murder'd on the shore;By the wild fury of some tempest cast,The fate of ships, and shipwreck'd men, to taste.As careless dames, whom wine and sleep betrayTo frantic dreams, their infants overlay:So there, sometimes, the raging ocean fails,And her own brood exposes; when the whalesAgainst sharp rocks, like reeling vessels quash'd,Though huge as mountains, are in pieces dash'd;Along the shore their dreadful limbs lie scatter'd,Like hills with earthquakes shaken, torn, and shatter'd.Hearts, sure, of brass they had, who tempted firstRude seas that spare not what themselves have nursed.The welcome news through all the nation spread,To sudden joy and hope converts their dread;What lately was their public terror, theyBehold with glad eyes as a certain prey;Dispose already of th'untaken spoil,And as the purchase of their future toil,These share the bones, and they divide the oil.So was the huntsman by the bear oppress'd,Whose hide he sold--before he caught the beast!

They man their boats, and all their young men armWith whatsoever may the monsters harm;Pikes, halberts, spits, and darts that wound so far,The tools of peace, and instruments of war.Now was the time for vig'rous lads to showWhat love, or honour, could incite them to;A goodly theatre! where rocks are roundWith rev'rend age, and lovely lasses, crown'd.Such was the lake which held this dreadful pair,Within the bounds of noble Warwick's share:Warwick's bold Earl! than which no title bearsA greater sound among our British peers;And worthy he the memory to renew,The fate and honour to that title due,Whose brave adventures have transferr'd his name,And through the new world spread his growing fame.--

But how they fought, and what their valour gain'd,Shall in another Canto be contain'd.

The bloody fight, successless toil,And how the fishes sack'd the isle.

The boat which, on the first assault did go,Struck with a harping-iron the younger foe;Who, when he felt his side so rudely gored,Loud as the sea that nourished him he roar'd.As a broad bream, to please some curious taste,While yet alive, in boiling water cast,Vex'd with unwonted heat he flings aboutThe scorching brass, and hurls the liquor out;So with the barbed jav'lin stung, he raves,And scourges with his tail the suffering waves.Like Spenser's Talus with his iron flail,He threatens ruin with his pond'rous tail;Dissolving at one stroke the batter'd boat,And down the men fall drenched in the moat;With every fierce encounter they are forcedTo quit their boats, and fare like men unhorsed.

The bigger whale like some huge carrack lay,Which wanteth sea-room with her foes to play;Slowly she swims; and when, provoked, she wouldAdvance her tail, her head salutes the mud;The shallow water doth her force infringe,And renders vain her tail's impetuous swinge;The shining steel her tender sides receive,And there, like bees, they all their weapons leave.

This sees the cub, and does himself opposeBetwixt his cumber'd mother and her foes;With desp'rate courage he receives her wounds,And men and boats his active tail confounds.Their forces join'd, the seas with billows fill,And make a tempest, though the winds be still.Now would the men with half their hopèd preyBe well content, and wish this cub away;Their wish they have: he (to direct his damUnto the gap through which they thither came)Before her swims, and quits the hostile lake,A pris'ner there but for his mother's sake.She, by the rocks compell'd to stay behind,Is by the vastness of her bulk confined.They shout for joy! and now on her aloneTheir fury falls, and all their darts are thrown.Their lances spent, one, bolder than the rest,With his broad sword provoked the sluggish beast;Her oily side devours both blade and haft,And there his steel the bold Bermudan left.Courage the rest from his example take,And now they change the colour of the lake;Blood flows in rivers from her wounded side,As if they would prevent the tardy tide,And raise the flood to that propitious height,As might convey her from this fatal strait.She swims in blood, and blood does spouting throwTo heaven, that heaven men's cruelties might know.Their fixed jav'lins in her side she wears,And on her back a grove of pikes appears;You would have thought, had you the monster seenThus dress'd, she had another island been:Roaring she tears the air with such a noise,As well resembled the conspiring voiceOf routed armies, when the field is won,To reach the ears of her escapèd son.He, though a league removèd from the foe,Hastes to her aid; the pious Trojan so,Neglecting for Creusa's life his own,Repeats the danger of the burning town.The men, amazèd, blush to see the seedOf monsters human piety exceed.Well proves this kindness, what the Grecian sung,That love's bright mother from the ocean sprung.Their courage droops, and hopeless now, they wishFor composition with th'unconquered fish;So she their weapons would restore again,Through rocks they'd hew her passage to the main.But how instructed in each other's mind?Or what commerce can men with monsters find?Not daring to approach their wounded foe,Whom her courageous son protected so,They charge their muskets, and, with hot desireOf fell revenge, renew the fight with fire;Standing aloof, with lead they bruise the scales,And tear the flesh of the incensèd whales.But no success their fierce endeavours found,Nor this way could they give one fatal wound.Now to their fort they are about to sendFor the loud engines which their isle defend;But what those pieces framed to batter walls,Would have effected on those mighty whales,Great Neptune will not have us know, who sendsA tide so high that it relieves his friends.And thus they parted with exchange of harms;Much blood the monsters lost, and they their arms.