SHE IS FAR FROM THE LAND.

ABLES entangling her, Shipspars for mangling her, Ropes, sure of strangling her; Blocks over-dangling her; Tiller to batter her, Topmast to shatter her, Tobacco to spatter her; Boreas blustering, Boatswain quite flustering, Thunder clouds mustering To blast her with sulphur— If the deep don’t engulph her; Sometimes fear’s scrutiny Pries out a mutiny, Sniffs conflagration, Or hints at starvation:— All the sea-dangers, Buccaneers, rangers, Pirates, and Sallee-men, Algerine galleymen, Tornadoes and typhons, And horrible syphons, And submarine travels Thro’ roaring sea-navels; Every thing wrong enough, Long boat not long enough, Vessel not strong enough; Pitch marring frippery, The deck very slippery, And the cabin—built sloping, The Captain a-toping, And the Mate a blasphemer, That names his Redeemer,— With inward uneasiness; The cook, known by greasiness, The victuals beslubber’d, Her bed—in a cupboard; Things of strange christening, Snatch’d in her listening, Blue lights and red lights And mention of dead lights, And shrouds made a theme of, Things horrid to dream of,— And buoys in the water To fear all exhort her; Her friend no Leander, Herself no sea gander, And ne’er a cork jacket On board of the packet; The breeze still a stiffening, The trumpet quite deafening; Thoughts of repentance, And doomsday and sentence; Everything sinister, Not a church minister,— Pilot a blunderer, Coral reefs under her, Ready to sunder her; Trunks tipsy-topsy, The ship in a dropsy; Waves oversurging her, Syrens a-dirgeing her; Sharks all expecting her, Sword-fish dissecting her, Crabs with their hand-vices Punishing land vices; Sea-dogs and unicorns, Things with no puny horns, Mermen carnivorous— “Good Lord deliver us!”