YACHTS are small pleasure boats, both light
And airy in their form;
They float upon a summer sea,
But anchor in a storm.
Our anchor is the hope of heaven;
When storms of sorrow lower,
Secure and firm, we will not fear,
Even in the darkest hour.

ZEBRAS in form are like our horse,
Though not so tall and slim;
Striped and glossy, smooth and bright,
And beautiful their skin.
They are not docile, like the horse,
They treat man with disdain;
They spurn the rider and his whip,
His bridle, bit and rein.