A leaky ship, embayed by dangerous lands!
Our bark no transient jeopardy surrounds,
Groaning she lies beneath unnumbered wounds:
’Tis ours the doubtful remedy to find,
To shun the fury of the seas and wind;
For in this hollow swell, with labour sore,
Her flank can bear the bursting floods no more.
One only shift, though desperate, we must try,
And that, before the boisterous storm to fly:
Then less her sides will feel the surges’ power