¶ A Commendation of the adventerus voyage of the worthy Captain. M. Thomas Stutely esquire and others, towards the Land called Terra florida.  

IF Fortune's force procure,  
The valiant noble heart:  
In travail, pain & dangers great,  
In wars to have his part.   

If loss of goods ensue,  
Through valiant enterprise:  
Or for slackness, or the foresight,  
Of diligent advise.   

Yet of his worthy praise,  
I can not speak too miche:  
Who ventreth both his goods and life,  
His Country to enrich.   

The worldly wise do muse,  
And also do invay:  
At noble hearts when that their wealths,  
Do fall unto decay.   

As now of late I knew,  
And saw the evidence:  
Of one whose part it was to show,  
The like experience.   

A noble heart in deed,  
And worthy great renown:  
Whose fortune was not to remain,  
In City nor in Town.   

A young Aeneas bold,  
With heart and courage stout:  
Whose enterprise was only pight,  
Strange things to bring about.   

And though that all men seemed,  
His doings to deride:  
Yet this his fact he would not leave,  
Nor throw it so a side.   

But still he doth procure,  
With boldened heart and mind:  
That thing which erst he had assayed,  
By travail now to find.   

Into a land unknown,  
To win him worthy fame:  
As exequys and memory,  
Of his most noble name.   

Which if it fall his lot,  
With fortunes helping hand:  
He may well make a lawhing stock,  
Of them which him withstand.   

Same term it Stolida,  
And Sordida it name:  
And to be plain they do it mock,  
As at a foolish game.   

If reasons sense be cause,  
Of this forespoken talk:  
Or feigned folly be the ground,  
Why men's tongues thus do walk.   

Then might it seem to me,  
The Frenches labour lost:  
Their careful pain and travail eke,  
That they therein have tossed.   

The chronicles also,  
Which only seem as true:  
And writ by them that of that place,  
Before did take the view.   

The spaniards eke do show,  
And verify the same:  
To be described as a thing,  
Deserving such a name.   

The Portugese's do say,  
The crownacles be just:  
And all that travailed have that cost:  
The same confess it must.   

If that in times before,  
Through talks men have refraind:  
Which for the love of travail sore,  
Their hearts have long been pain.   

Columbus as I read,  
The space of many years:  
Was counted as unwise also,  
As in writers appears.   

His earnest suit denied,  
Yet in the final end:  
His wurds & deeds did seem at length,  
On reason to depend.   

The like assay in hand,  
He did at last procure:  
Whose life and lucky voyages,  
Good fortune did assure.   

At th'end in safety home,  
At length he did return:  
And quenched all their mocking hearts  
Which erst did seem to burn.   

For fire of force must needs,  
Declare his burning heat:  
Though for a time in smothering smoke  
It seems itself to beat.   

So talk of tongues may not,  
By smothering through be tame:  
But bursting out at length will turn,  
Into a fiery flame.   

And then the malice gone,  
The fire falleth down:  
And quenched quite as by this man,  
Which was of great renown.   

Now Stuetley hoice thy sail,  
Thy wished land to find:  
And never do regard vain talk,  
For wurds they are but wind.   

And in reproof of all.  
I will not once refrain:  
With prayer for to wish that thou,  
Mayst safely come again.   

And that sum fruit at length,  
By travail thou mayst find:  
With riches for to satisfy,  
Thy manly modest mind.   
Finis.  
ꝙ Robert Seal.   

¶ Imprinted at London at the long Shop adjoining unto Saint Mildred's Church in the Pultrie, by john Alde.