Classic Poem

With floods and storms thus we be tossed,
Awake, good Lord, to Thee we cry.
Our ship is almost sunk and lost.
Thy mercy help our misery.
Man's strength is weak: man's wit is dull:
Man's reason's blind. These things t'amend,
Thy hand, O Lord, of might is full;
Awake betime, and help us send.
In Thee we trust, and in no wight:
Save us as chickens under the hen.
Our crookedness Thou canst make right,
Glory to Thee for aye. Amen.