I.While sailors blest with wind and tide,Do safely o'er the ocean ride, Chearful they spend their hours in mirth:But when the raging tempests blow,And yawning graves invade below, They tremble on the verge of death.
II.Then to their knees the wretches flyTo seek a friend; they mourn and cry, Confess their sins, and help implore;And while distress'd to heav'n they vowIf God will help, and save them now They'll tread their sinful ways no more.
III.But when he stills the foaming main,And calms the furious winds again, Soon they forget the vows they made;"Come on, they say, ye merry souls,We'll drown our grief with jolly bowls; Good luck has all our fears allay'd."
IV.O poor returns for grave so greatTo wretches on the brink of fate! Good Lord forgive th' unhappy crew:O may they now by grace reform,Before the great and dreadful storm Prove their eternal overthrow.
