1Where the remote Bermudas ride,
2In the ocean’s bosom unespied,
3From a small boat, that rowed along,
4The listening winds received this song:

5“What should we do but sing His praise
6That led us through the watery maze,
7Unto an isle so long unknown,
8And yet far kinder than our own?
9Where He the huge sea-monsters wracks,
10That lift the deep upon their backs;
11He lands us on a grassy stage,
12Safe from the storms, and prelate’s rage.
13He gave us this eternal spring,
14Which here enamels every thing,
15And sends the fowls to us in care,
16On daily visits through the air;
17He hangs in shades the orange bright,
18Like golden lamps in a green night,
19And does in the pomegranates close
20Jewels more rich than Ormus shows;
21He makes the figs our mouths to meet,
22And throws the melons at our feet;
23But apples plants of such a price,
24No tree could ever bear them twice;
25With cedars chosen by His hand,
26From Lebanon, He stores the land,
27And makes the hollow seas, that roar,
28Proclaim the ambergris on shore;
29He cast (of which we rather boast)
30The Gospel’s pearl upon our coast,
31And in these rocks for us did frame
32A temple where to sound His name.
33Oh! let our voice His praise exalt,
34Till it arrive at Heaven’s vault,
35Which, thence (perhaps) rebounding, may
36Echo beyond the Mexique Bay.”

37Thus sung they, in the English boat,
38An holy and a cheerful note;
39And all the way, to guide their chime,
40With falling oars they kept the time.