While we descend at pleasure to invade
The bad with Vengeance, or the good to aid:
Our little world the image of the great,
Like that amidst the boundless Ocean set,
Of her own growth has all that Nature craves,
And all that's rare as Tribute from the waves.
As Ægypt does not on the Clouds rely,
But to her Nyle owes more then to the sky;
So what our Earth, and what our Heaven denies,
Our ever constant friend, the Sea supplies.