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 Th' industrious merchant has; who, for to find Gold, runneth to the Western Inde, And back again, tortured with fears, doth fly, Untaught to suffer poverty. But thou at home, bless'd with securest ease, Sitt'st, and believ'st that there be seas And watery dangers; while thy whiter hap But sees these things within thy map. And viewing them with a more safe survey Mak'st easy fear unto thee say,— "A heart thrice wall'd with oak and brass that man Had, first durst plough the ocean". But thou at home, without or tide or gale, Can'st in thy map securely sail: Seeing those painted countries, and so guess By those fine shades their substances: And, from thy compass taking small advice, Buy'st travel at the lowest price. Nor are thine ears so deaf but thou canst hear, Far more with wonder than with fear, Fame tell of states, of countries, courts, and kings, And believe there be such things: When of these truths thy happier knowledge lies More in thine ears than in thine eyes. And when thou hear'st by that too true report Vice rules the most or all at court, Thy pious wishes are, though thou not there, Virtue had, and mov'd her sphere. But thou liv'st fearless; and thy face ne'er shows Fortune when she comes or goes, But with thy equal thoughts prepared dost stand, To take her by the either hand;