Thy Ship; and fence her round with stonage store
To shield her Ribs against the [310]humorous Gales;
Her Pump exhausted, lest Ioue’s rainie falls
Breed putrefaction. All tooles fit for her,
And all her tacklings, to thy House confer:
Contracting orderly all needfull things
That imp a water-treading Vessel’s wings;
Her well-wrought Sterne hang in the smoke at home,
Attending time, till fit Sea Seasons come.—
When thy vaine Minde then would Sea-ventures try,