Having seen too much Villany in Scotland to pay the least Adoration to the Country, I return’d to London again, and after a short Stay there went for Highlake in Cheshire, where going on Board the Seaforth Gally, Sail was presently hoisted, and in a few Hours bidding Adieu to the Sight of Old England and Wales, we came to Anchor in the Bay of Dublin very early on a Whitsun-Monday in the Morning. Here I went ashore at Dunlary, and being got safe in that Part of Terræ firmæ, which, I think, is situated in podice Mundi, I went Five Miles farther to DUBLIN, the Metropolis of Ireland, standing on the Liffie River, as well as the Sea. This Country is seperated from England by a very dangerous Sea, in which meeting with a most dreadful Hurricane, as soon as the tempestuous Weather was over, my Muse incited me to delineate the Seamens Devotion in bad Weather, in the following Meditation.
When Nature shews the Seaman various Forms
Of Death, in Tempests, Hurricanes, and Storms,
The Ship in Danger, Master, or the Mate,
Cries, Reef the Sails before it is too late;
We cannot bear ’em in this Stress of Weather,
Up nimbly, Boys, G⸺ d⸺ you, all together.
A Sailor from the Fore-Mast-Top bauls out,