To please all's impossible, and to despair Ruins our selves, and damps the Writers care: Would we knew what to doe, or say, or when To find the mindes here equal with the men: But we must venture; now to Sea we goe, Faire fortune with us, give us room, and blow; Remember ye're all venturers; and in this Play How many twelve-peaces ye have 'stow'd this day: Remember for return of your delight, We launch, and plough through storms of fear, and spight: Give us your fore-winds fairly, fill our wings, And steer us right, and as the Saylor sings, Loaden with Wealth, on wanton seas, so we Shall make our home-bound-voyage chearfully; And you our noble Merchants, for your treasure Share equally the fraught, we run for pleasure.
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