Now swolne ambition, bred from curious toile

Invites my feet, to tread parch’d Æthiops Soile,

To sight great Prester Jehan, and his Empire;

That mighty King, their Prince, their Priest, their Sire;

Their Lawes, Religion, Manners, Life and frame,

And Amais, mount-rais’d, Library of Fame.

Well, I am sped, bids Englands Court adiew,

And by the way the Hiberne bounds I view;

In whose defects, the truth like Razor sharpe

Shall sadly tune, my new-string’d Irish Harpe:

Then scud I France, and crossed the Pyrheneise

At the Columbian heights, which threat the skies;

And coasting Pampelon, I trac’d all Spaine,

From Behobia, to Jubile Taure againe.

Then rest’d at Malaga, where I was shent

And taken for a Spie, crush’d, rackt, and rent.

Where ah! (when Treason tride) by fals position;

They wrest’d on me their lawlesse Inquisition:

Which after Tortures, Hunger, Vermine gnashes,

[X. 425.]Condemn’d me quick, stake-bound, to burn in ashes:

Gods Providence comes in, and I’me discovered

By Merchants meanes, by Aston last delivered:

Where noble Maunsell, Generall of that Fleete,

That I was rack’t for; did kind Halkins greete

With strict command, to send me home for Court,

To show King James, my torments, pangs, and tort:

Loe I am come, to Bath I’me sent, and more

Mine hoplesse life, made Worlds my sight deplore;

Which here I’le sing, in Tragicke tune to all

That love the Truth, and looke for Babels fall.