"In thriving arts long time had Holland grown, Crouching at home and cruel when abroad: Scarce leaving us the means to claim our own; Our King they courted, and our merchants awed.Trade, which, like blood, should circularly flow, Stopp'd in their channels, found its freedom lost: Thither the wealth of all the world did go, And seem'd but shipwreck'd on so base a coast.For them alone the heavens had kindly heat; In eastern quarries ripening precious dew: For them the Idumæan balm did sweat, And in hot Ceylon spicy forests grew.The sun but seem'd the labourer of the year; Each waxing moon supplied her watery store, To swell those tides, which from the line did bear Their brimful vessels to the Belgian shore."