All though it wolde blow downe both mast & shrowde,
Except the shyppe flete[167] uppon the water 585
The wynde can ryght nought do,—a playne matter.
Yet maye ye on water, wythout any wynde,
Row forth your vessell where men wyll have her synde.[168]
Nothynge more rejoyceth the maryner,
Then meane cooles[169] of wynde and plente of water. 590
For, commenly, the cause of every wracke
Is excesse of wynde, where water doth lacke.
In rage of these stormys the perell is suche