Крисчен Милн (Christian Milne)

Painful Anxiety

SINCE WILLIAM cross'd the roaring seas,
I cannot taste a moment's ease;
Imagination's busy train
Presents him buried in the main!
At times, I see him climb the mast,
To reef a sail amid' the blast--
The rope gives way! he's quickly hurl'd
To the tempestuous wat'ry world!
Again, I see the rushing tide
Rude dash him 'gainst a rock's rough side!
Torn by the shock, the gushing blood
Distains around the angry flood!
Ah! now, methinks, I see him borne
(From kindred, wife, and children torn)--
A lifeless corse by strangers kind,
While sighs of feeling swell the wind!
Consoling Hope at times will dart
A ray to cheer my pensive heart;
But, more inclin'd to harbour Fear,
Soon Hope's suggestions disappear.
Thus impious why should I despair?
Is he not 'neath his MAKER 's care,
Who can, with kind and powerful hand,
Protect at sea as well as land! 

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