New English Canaan or New Canaan Containing an abstract of New England, composed in three bookes. The first booke setting forth the originall of the natives, their manners and customes, together with their tractable nature and love towards the English. The second booke setting forth the naturall indowments of the country, and what staple commodities it yealdeth. The third booke setting forth, what people are planted there, their prosperity, what remarkable accidents have happened since the first planting of it, together with their tenents and practise of their church. Written by Thomas Morton of Cliffords Inn gent, upon tenne yeares knowledge and experiment of the country.

In laudem Authoris.

T' Excuse the Author ere the worke be shewne Is accusation in it selfe alone, And to commend him might seeme over∣sight, So divers are th' opinions of this age, So quick and apt, to taxe the moderne stage, That hard his taske, is that must please in all Example have wee from great Caesars fall, But is the sonne to be dislik'd and blam'd, Because the mole is of his face asham'd, The fault is in the beast not in the sonne Give sicke mouthes sweete meates fy they relish none, But to the sound in censure he commends, His love unto his Country his true ends, To modell out a Land of so much worth, As untill now noe traveller seth forth, Faire Canaans second selfe, second to none, Natures rich Magazine till now unknowne, Then here survay, what nature hath in store, And graunt him love for this, he craves no more.

R. O. Gen.

Sir Christoffer Gardiner, Knight.

In laudem Authoris

THis worke a matchles mirror is that shewes, The Humors of the seperatiste, and those So truely personated by thy pen, I was amaz'd to see't, herein all men, May plainely see as in an inter-lude, Each actor, figure and the scaene well view'd, In Connick Tragick and in a pastorall stife, For tyth of muit and Cummin shewes their life, Nothing but opposition, gainst the right, Of sacred Majestie men, full of spight, Goodnes abuseing, turning vertue out Of Dores, to whipping stocking and full bent, To plotting mischeife, gainst the innocent, Burning their houses, as if ordained by fate, In spight of Lawe, to be made ruinate, This taske is well perform'd and patience be, Thy present comfort and thy constancy, Thine honor, and this glasse where it shall come, Shall sing thy praises till the day of doome.

Sir. C. G.

In laudem Authoris.

BVt that I rather pitty I confesse, The practise of their Church, I could expresse My selfe a Satyrist; whose smarting fanges, Should strike it with a palsy, and the panges, Beget a feare, to tempt the Majesty, Of those, or mortall Gods, will they defie The Thundring Jove, like children they desire, Such is their Zeale, to sport themselves with fire, So have I seene an angry Fly, presume, To strike a burning taper, and consume His feeble wings, why in an aire so milde, Are they so monstrous growne up, and so vilde, That Salvages can of themselves espy Their errors, brand their names with infamy, What is their zeale for blood, like Cyrus thirst, Will they be over head and eares, a curst A cruell way to found a Church on, noe, T' is not their zeale, but fury blinds them soe, And pricks their malice on like fier to joyne, And offer up the sacrifice of Kain; Jonas, thou hast done well, to call these men Home to repentance, with thy painefull pen.

F. C. Armiger.