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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