Let not the water-flood overflow me, neither let the deep swallow me up.
HE world's a sea; my flesh a ship that's mann'd With lab'ring thoughts, and steer'd by reason's My heart's the seaman's card,* whereby she sails; [hand: My loose affections are the greater sails :
The top-sail is my fancy; and the gusts,
That fill these wanton sheets, are worldly lusts.
Pray'r is the cable, at whose end appears
The anchor hope, ne'er slipp'd but in our fears :
My will's th' unconstant pilot, that commands
The stagg'ring keel; my sins are like the sands:
Repentance is the bucket; and mine eye
The pump unus'd (but in extremes) and dry:
My conscience is the plummet that does press
The deeps, but seldom cries, O fathomless!
Smooth calm's security; the gulf, despair;
My freight's corruption, and this life's my fare:
My soul's the passenger, confus'dly driv'n
From fear to fright; her landing port is heav'n.
My seas are stormy, and my ship doth leak;
My sailors rude; my steersman faint and weak:
My canvass torn, it flaps from side to side;
My cable's crack'd, my anchor's slightly ty'd;
My pilot's craz'd; my shipwreck-sands are cloak'd;
My bucket's broken, and my pump is choak'd;
My calm's deceitful, and my gulf too near;
My wares are slubber'd, and my fare's too dear:
* Card, sheet, cable; sea-terms, all of them proper and beautiful.
My plummet's light, it cannot sink nor sound;
Oh, shall my rock-bethreaten'd soul be drown'd?
Lord, still the seas, and shield my ship from harm
Instuct my sailors, guide my steersman's arm:
Touch thou my compass, and renew my sails;
Send stiffer courage, or send milder gales:
Make strong my cable, bind my anchor faster;
Direct my pilot, and be thou his master:
Object the sands to my most serious view,
Make sound my bucket, bore my pump anew :
New-cast my plummet, make it apt to try
Where the rocks lurk, and where the quicksands lie;
Guard thou the gulf with love, my calms with care;
Cleanse thou my freight; accept my slender fare ;
Refresh the sea-sick passenger; cut short
His voyage; land him in his wished port:
Thou, thou, whom winds and stormy seas obey,
That through the sea gav'st grumbling Is'rel way,
Say to my soul, Be safe; and then mine eye
Shall scorn grim death, although grim death stand by.
O thou whose strength-reviving arm did cherish
Thy sinking Peter, at the point to perish,
Reach forth thy hand, or bid me tread the wave,
I'll come, I'll come: the voice that calls will save.
S. AMBROS. Apol. post. pro. David. Cap. iii.
The confluence of lust makes a great tempest, which in this sea disturbeth the seafaring soul, that reason cannot govern it.
S. AUGUST. Soliloq. Cap. xxxv.
We labour in the boisterous sea: thou standest upon the shore, and seest our dangers; give us grace to hold a middle course between Scylla and Charybdis, that, both dangers escaped, we may arrive at the port secure.
My soul, the seas are rough, and thou a stranger
In these false coasts: O keep aloof; there's danger:
Cast forth thy plummet; see, a rock appears:
Thy ship wants sea-room; make it with thy tears.
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