 | Poems Divine, and Humane |  |
The Royall Navy.
What's his breath? a vapor: glory? a vaine chat:What's man? a span: what's life? shorter than that:
What's death? a key: for what? to ope heavens dore,
Who keepes it? time: for whom? both rich and poore:
What's heaven? a haven: what's ships anchor there?
Hope, faith, and love, with one small pinnace feare.
What are those? men of warre, how fraught? with armes:
What burthen? weighty, suiting their alarum?
Whose ships? the Kings: what colours? the red crosse:
What ensignes? bloody from their Princes losse:
And whither bound? to earth: Oh! what's their strife?
To conquer breath, and glory, man and life.
Oh! I foresee the storme, Lord I confesse,
Then vapour, or vaine chat, or span I'm lesse,
Save a relenting foe; thy glories are
More excellent in peace, than death and warre;
For to that time, that time his key shall lend,
And to thy tent my yeelding spirit send:
I will strike saile to these, and strive to prove
Thy Captive, in my hope, faith, feare and love.
| Poems Divine, and Humane | |