Classic Poem

Mark , when tempestuous winds arise,
The wild confusion and uproar;
All ocean mixing with the skies,
And shipwrecks dash'd upon the shore.

Not less confusion racks the mind,
By its own fierce ideas tost;
When reason is to rage resign'd,
And in the whirl of passion lost.

O self-tormenting child of Pride,
Anger, bred up in hate and strife;
Ten thousand ills, by thee supply'd,
Mingle the cup of bitter life.

Happy the meek, whose gentle breast,
Serene as summer's evening ray,
Calm as the regions of the blest,
Enjoys on earth celestial day.

No friendships broke their bosoms sting,
No jars their peaceful tents invade,
Safe underneath Almighty wing,
And, foes to none, of none afraid.

Spirit of grace, all meek and mild,
With thy whole self our souls possess:
Passion and pride be hence exil'd,
So shall our frame thy own express.