Classic Poem

Cut in calamitatibus solo sit fidendum

When first the towring Hills the Loftier Pine
Exchangd to ride upon the swelling brine
Neptune prepard and with more active skill
Grew sometimes in the vale, sometimes o'th'Hill
Whilst floating in a compleat tackle drest
Shes taught to sayle from Cadis to the East
Wher Ganges runs, and from those coasts being come
To steer a course back to Ilyrium:
Then was that Coward Fear bannisht the mind
And hart of Man ambitious still to find
More worldes and workes of wonder, whern He
Might trace the Greatnes of the Deity
And as if fortefide with steel and brass
Venturd his Bottom on this field of glass
Soe brickle and unconstant, as't may trye
How neer one comes to death, yet doth not die
A small Gale over-fills the Sayles, a Leake
Is sprung in shorter time than I can speak
Then being o'resett above, o'rechargd beneath
What can expected be but present Death?
Yes if we seek to him at whose command
Becalmd into Obedience Tempests stand
And rise when he soe pleases, and are gon
When he planes o're their rugged Motion
Whose powres at life exprest, when waight assends
And all most to the Crystall Skye extends:
And when to follow'ts nature it hath found
Leav, it returnes unto the lowest ground
Then are they troubled that on it doe ride
Rowling and tottring unto either side
Being drunk through fear and sorrow, nor can tell
How many sands shall knowle their passing-bell
Thus in a trance dismayd, and quite bereaft
Of sence, save of a little spark thats left
To kindle hopes, they to their maker cry
Who strait releases them from misery
Sending a Calme wherat the liquid plain
Becomes to them a looking glass again
Soe They in mind restord, have quick access
Unto the Haven of their happiness.