III.
ECCLESIA LABORANS.
O ship! shall waves bear thee away
Again to sea? oh, why delay?
Thine harbour seize;—for see how torn
Thy side, of tackle shorn!
Thy mast is marr'd by Afric's gale,
Thy sail-yards groan, thy cables fail,
Thy tottering keel can scarcely brave
The too imperious wave.
Thou hast not left one untorn sail:—
How can thy prayers again avail?
Though noblest daughter of the grove,
The Wood of God's dear love
.
Will birth and name avail thee now?
Can sailors trust a painted prow?
Take heed lest sport of every wind
Thou leav'st a wreck behind.
Of late my anxious weary care,
Now object of my hope and prayer,
Mayst thou escape the sea that smiles
'Mid fair and shining Isles.