When firft they engag'd her they blew up her ftore, i And chas'd her for hard as to wreck her on fhore; The crew that was in her, difmay'd at the fhock, Had funk to the bottom, but hung by a rock.

When Cain he efpied her ruins at wreck,
And tried to mend her, and strengthen her back,
He ventur'd out in her, tho' much to his cost;
She funk in the deluge her crew were all loft.

Tho' funk in the flood, and all hands caft away, T
Yet ftill Mr. Nimrod found out where fhe layT
He went and fursley'd her, and pity'd her hapi
The natives of Babel and him weigh'd her up.

M
Y

Some thousands of hands to repair they have found ;
They vary their plan, but the still is unfound;
Wo be to the builder that dies at the work,
For all that die in her are prey for the shark!

Tho' fone undergird her to fail through the bay, They will find in bad weather that fomething gives way. They hoift up their colours as fplendid deceits,

Yet they'll cripple their oars in paffing the Straits.

Full

Full many a time the has been in their docks,
Their labour's in vain, tho' fhe's oft on their blocks;
Scarce a hand you can find, but what brings her a pin;
They pay her with flime, and they fheath her with tin.

Sure fuch bungling workmen proclaim they are mad; No fhipwright can mend her, her timbers are bad; But still they're at labour, yet can't make her last, Nor find out a builder for fifhing her maft.

Their cordage and cables are feeble as hay;
The fluke of their anchor can hold but in clay.
Much is given to prelates to keep her repair'd,...
Yet few touch their mallets, which feldom are heard.

Some are at repairing, while others contrive;
They grapple the hire, but they feldom will flave.
Some breaming her bottom, and flaving like Turks;
Theycaulk her with good words, and wreck her at works.

They chriften her Virtue, or call her Sincere:
Each names her anew that pretends to repair...
Her keel is decayed, her keelfon is rot ;

But the building of Babel muft not be forgot.

There

There are fome pay her over, fome lay her in ftore,
With their holy-water and wafers of flour..
The gulf Desperation will fink them like lead,
For Mofes, their captain, is certainly dead.

A

Their compafs is bad, and their judgment is worfe, I
And to find out their point they are all at a loss;
Some talk of perfection, which you must aim at,
Tho' none but your Captain could ever box that.

in

I

They that go down to the jea in fhips, that do business

great waters; thefe fee the works of the Lord, and bi wonders in the deep. For he commandeth, and raiseth the ftormy wind which lifteth up the waves thereof. They mount up to the heavens, they go down again to the depths: their foul is melted because of trouble. They reel to and fro, and ftagger like a drunken man, and are at their wit'? end. Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and be bringeth them out of their diftreffes. Pfalm cvii 23

28.

THE packet Distress, pray deal kindly with her, She's been chased by Terror, the distance is far; The packet's from Egypt, and laden with fin, Was drove by a ftorm from the fleet she was in.

The

The fire drake Terror has found her at fea,

And the fhip is fo leaky fhe can't run away;
Then fail along-side her, and offer relief;
She's fighting with Terror, commanded by Death.

Leviathan the shark pursues the fick ship,
And hopes he will fuddenly fink in the deep;
Long has he purfu'd her, by night and by day;
In vain is his labour, he's robb'd of his

prey.

I know fhe'll engage, tho' amazingly hurt,
And oft within reach of the guns at the port ;
They've shatter'd her rigging, and wounded her men,
Still Sinai's the harbour the aims to put in.

O pafs her, and hail her, and bid her God's speed;
She'll afk for no aid, tho' in deepest of need.
Her daring broad pennant is ftill hoisted up,
Tho' compafs'd with fire and with pillars of fmoke.

She fcorneth to ftrike, tho' amazingly hurt,
And fadly difabled by fhot from the port.
Her poor fhatter'd rigging will furely give way,
She will labour fo hard in Defpondency's bay.

When

When foremaft, and mizen, and bowfprit, are gone, Then take it for granted she will not fight long; She'll look to the heavens with tears in her eyes, But clouds of difpleasure fhall cover the skies.

Her ally she opposes in danger of wreck,
And still will have Mofes to fight on her deck;
When her courage is funk, and her pennant is low,
Then give her affiftance, and take her in tow.'

Sirs, ye fhould have hearkened unto me, and not have loofed from Crete, and have gained this harm and lofs. And now I exhort you to be of good cheer: for there shall be no lofs of any man's life among you, but of the ship. Howbeit we must be cast upon a certain island. Acts xxvii. 21, 22, 26.

THE Pharifee frigate has bent all her fails; Saint Anthony's call'd to fupply her with gales. The ship is from Rome, fhe was built by the pope, And fitted in vain for the Cape of Good Hope.

Her burden is reliques, confeffions, and deeds;
Including a number of pray'rs and of creeds.
A bull has enfur'd both her cargo and land,
And her compass is call'd-The Whole Duty of Man.