Classic Poem

O God! have mercy, in this dreadful hour,
On the poor mariner; In comfort here,
Safe sheltered as I am, I almost fear
The blast that rages with resistless power.
What were it now to toss upon the waves,
The maddened waves, and know no succor near;
The howling of the storm alone to hear,
And the wild sea that to the tempest raves;
To gaze amid the horrors of the night,
And only see the billow's gleaming light;
Then, in the dread of death, to think of her,
Who, as she listens sleepless to the gale,
Puts up a silent prayer, and waxes pale?
O God! have mercy on the mariner!