Dame, hand my Glass, the longest, strait prepare; --
'Tis He -- 'tis TAYLOR's Soul, that travels there.
O stay! thou happy Spirit, stay,
And lead me on thro' all th' unbeaten Wilds of Day;
Where Planets in pure Streams of Ether driven,
Swim thro' the blue Expanse of Heav'n.
There let me, thy Companion, stray
From Orb to Orb, and now behold
Unnumber'd Suns, all Seas of molten Gold,
And trace each Comet's wandring Way. ------
Souse down into Prose again, my Muse; for Poetry's no more thy
Element, than Air is that of the Flying-Fish; whose Flights, like
thine, are therefore always short and heavy. ------
We complain sometimes of hard Winters in this Country; but our
Winters will appear as Summers, when compar'd with those that some of
our Countrymen undergo in the most Northern _British_ Colony on this
Continent, which is that upon _Churchill_ River, in _Hudson's Bay_,
Lat. 58d. 56m. Long. from _London_ 94d. 50m. West. Captain
_Middleton_, a Member of the _Royal Society_, who had made many
Voyages thither, and winter'd there 1741 -- 2, when he was in Search
of the _North-West_ Passage to the _South-Sea_, gives an Account of
it to that Society, from which I have extracted these Particulars,
_viz.
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