荷兰，那几乎配得上陆地的名字，不过是英国沙的最南端;当英国领航员把船头抬起来的时候，他们贡献了那么多泥土;或是海洋缓缓冲积下来的海船残骸和贝壳;这是荷兰人的一种未消化的海上呕吐物。他们像找到了桨的矿工一样，兴高采烈地把陆地拖到岸边。他们拼命地争夺每一片土地，仿佛没有安珀利希腊;焦急地捡起一小堆泥土，燕子叼走的还不够;把他们的粪土灵魂转化到他们身上。他们是怎样用巨大的桩子把新捕获的英里的中心钉牢的;向木桩奔去，一个挣扎着的国家，在那里，狂吠的海浪仍在诱惑着勉强的地面; Building their watry Babel far more high To reach the Sea, then those to scale the Sky. Yet still his claim the Injur'd Ocean laid, And oft at Leap-frog ore their Steeples plaid: As if on purpose it on Land had come To shew them what's their Mare Liberum. A daily deluge over them does boyl; The Earth and Water play at Level-coyl; The Fish oft-times the Burger dispossest, And sat not as a Meat but as a Guest; And oft the Tritons and the Sea-Nymphs saw Whole sholes of Dutch serv'd up for Cabillan; Or as they over the new Level rang'd For pickled Herring, pickled Heeren chang'd. Nature, it seem'd, asham'd of her mistake, Would throw their land away at Duck and Drake. Therefore Necessity, that first made Kings, Something like Government among them brings. For as with Pygmees who best kills the Crane, Among the hungry he that treasures Grain, Among the blind the one-ey'd blinkard reigns, So rules among the drowned he that draines. Not who first see the rising Sun commands, But who could first discern the rising Lands. Who best could know to pump an Earth so leak Him they their Lord and Country's Father speak. To make a Bank was a great Plot of State; Invent a Shov'l and be a Magistrate. Hence some small Dyke-grave unperceiv'd invades The Pow'r, and grows as 'twere a King of Spades. But for less envy some Joynt States endures, Who look like a Commission of the Sewers. For these Half-anders, half wet, and half dry, Nor bear strict service, nor pure Liberty. 'Tis probable Religion after this Came next in order; which they could not miss. How could the Dutch but be converted, when Th' Apostles were so many Fishermen? Besides the Waters of themselves did rise, And, as their Land, so them did re-baptise. Though Herring for their God few voices mist, And Poor-John to have been th' Evangelist. Faith, that could never Twins conceive before, Never so fertile, spawn'd upon this shore: More pregnant then their Marg'ret, that laid down For Hans-in-Kelder of a whole Hans-Town. Sure when Religion did it self imbark, And from the east would Westward steer its Ark, It struck, and splitting on this unknown ground, Each one thence pillag'd the first piece he found: Hence Amsterdam, Turk-Christian-Pagan-Jew, Staple of Sects and Mint of Schisme grew; That Bank of Conscience, where not one so strange Opinion but finds Credit, and Exchange. In vain for Catholicks our selves we bear; The Universal Church is onely there. Nor can Civility there want for Tillage, Where wisely for their Court they chose a Village. How fit a Title clothes their Governours, Themselves the Hogs as all their Subjects Bores Let it suffice to give their Country Fame That it had one Civilis call'd by Name, Some Fifteen hundred and more years ago, But surely never any that was so. See but their Mairmaids with their Tails of Fish, Reeking at Church over the Chafing-Dish. A vestal Turf enshrin'd in Earthen Ware Fumes through the loop-holes of wooden Square. Each to the Temple with these Altars tend, But still does place it at her Western End: While the fat steam of Female Sacrifice Fills the Priests Nostrils and puts out his Eyes. Or what a Spectacle the Skipper gross, A Water-Hercules Butter-Coloss, Tunn'd up with all their sev'ral Towns of Beer; When Stagg'ring upon some Land, Snick and Sneer, They try, like Statuaries, if they can, Cut out each others Athos to a Man: And carve in their large Bodies, where they please, The Armes of the United Provinces. But when such Amity at home is show'd; What then are their confederacies abroad? Let this one court'sie witness all the rest; When their hole Navy they together prest, Not Christian Captives to redeem from Bands: Or intercept the Western golden Sands: No, but all ancient Rights and Leagues must vail, Rather then to the English strike their sail; to whom their weather-beaten Province ows It self,