Let not the water-flood overflow me, neither let the deep swallow me up.

THE World's a sea; my flesh a ship that's mann'd With lab'ring thoughts, and steer'd by reason's

hand:

My heart's the seaman's card, whereby she sails; My loose affections are the greater sails;

M

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' inconstant 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 tied,
My pilot's craz'd; my shipwreck sands are cloak'd:
My bucket's broken, and my pump is chok'd;
My calm's deceitful; and my gulf too near;
My wares are slubber'd, and my fare's too dear:
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;
Instruct 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 wish'd-for port: Thou, thou, whom winds and stormy seas obey, That through the deep gav'st grumbling Isr❜el

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.

EPIG. 11.

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; The ship wants sea-room; make it with thy tears.

O that thou wouldest hide me in the grave, that thou wouldest keep me in secret until thy wrath be past!

O WHITHER shall I fly? what path untrod
Shall I seek out to 'scape the flaming rod
Of my offended, of my angry GOD?