Instead of tripping by so quick,
Intent upon the dish or plate.
Yea—e’en the pen that writes it down,
Doth falter at the dismal thought—
That ere the sun, which lovely shone,
Had ’rose again, the wreck was wrought!)
But whilst within the galley, lo!—
A rather sudden lurch ’tervenes,
A little spray hops o’er her prow,
And all is not so well, it seems.