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Inconstant, boistrous Element! the Type
Of human Life. Now gentle Calms compose
The wide-extended surface; to the Eye
Opens a level Plain, a Sea of Glass,
Smooth as the standing Pool, or purling stream,
Or only rising gradual and slow
In vast majestic swells, not wild, abrupt,
A watry Precipice; such as these Eyes
Now see collecting all their Terrors round,
Ore every Tide. Above, the Clouds replete
With Winds and angry Fire tremendous lower.
The Lightening flashes a malignant Glare
Thro' the thick Gloom, and helps but to descry
The Horrors of the Dark, and Danger's Frown
Now the fierce Flash spreads out in sheets of Flame
Round Heav'n's wide Canopy—Mean Time the Winds
Collect their Forces, and discharge their Rage
On the fermenting Deep; ['till watery Hills,]
And mountains rise, and roll along, beyond
The Ken of light; or by quick-shifting Winds
Driven adverse, dash in furious Conflict; then
The mountains break, in a tumultous Roar;
The angry foam flies up to Heaven in showers,
And burns and sparkles in the briny Waves.
Sure 'tis the War of Elements; the shock
of Nature in Convulsions; 'tis the Wreck
Of Worlds! What horrid Images can shew
The dreadful Scene! What loud tremendous Sounds,
What wild, tumultuous Verse can represent
The blended Roar of Thunder, Winds and Waves
In Tumult—Now how naturally Distress
Casts up to Heaven the wild imploring Eye,
And eager cries for Help—Now, now we sink!
Strange! we survive the shock! Now fiercer still
The Waves assault our Barque, convulse each Joint,
And spread a Tremor thro' each Rib of Oak.
Now we shall rise no more. Strange! we emerge
Toss'd like a Cork, we float from Wave to Wave,
From the huge, watry Precipice we plunge
The yawning Gulph below; While howling Winds
And roaring Waves, and midnight's sullen Glooms
Surround us—O thou Ruler of the Seas,
Send forth thy mighty Mandate, “Peace, be still,”
And calm their Rage—But can even Mercy hear
Such daring Rebels, who in one vile Breath
Blend Prayers and Curses? But alas! my Heart
Look home; thou art not innocent; my Guilt
May hurl these furious Hurricanes in Air,
And Arm each Billow of the Sea against me.

But have not I, a suppliant at thy Throne,
Indulgent Father, have not I bewailed
my Guilt in deep Repentance? has not Faith
Applied the Saviour's Blood?—