"Give me the merchants of the Indian mines
That trade in metal of the purest mold
The wealthy Moor that in the eastern rocks
Without control can pick his riches up
And in his house heap pearl like pebble-stones
Receive them free and sell them by the weight
Bags of fiery opals, sapphires, amethysts
Jacinths, hard topaz, grass-green emeralds
Beauteous rubies, sparkling diamonds
And seld-seen costly stones of so great price
As one of them, indifferently rated
And of a carat of this quantity
May serve in peril of calamity
To ransom great kings from captivity
This is the ware wherein consists my wealth
And thus methinks should men of judgment frame
Their means of traffic from the vulgar trade
And as their wealth increaseth, so enclose
Infinite riches in a little room
But now how stands the wind?
Into what corner peers my halcyon's bill?
Ha! To the east? Yes, see how stands the vanes!
East and by south; why then I hope my ships
I sent for Egypt and the bordering isles
Are gotten up by Nilus' winding banks
Mine argosy from Alexandria
Loaden with spice and silks, now under sail
Are smoothly gliding down by Candy shore
To Malta, through our Mediterranean sea."
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
