Classic Poem

Good anchorage our Master hath secured,—
Strong cable to the Master's bark is fixed,—
Brave A NCHOR , rooted firmly in the rock,—
What wreck, what peril can befall us now?
The storms may break,—they enter every life;
Foes may assault,—all good men live at war;
Time may install harshest vicissitudes,
And threaten all that timid souls can fear;—
Yet our good A NCHOR holds, will ever hold,
And we shall close our voyage in peace at last.