But O for a star mid angry clouds,
And O for some helping hand!
'T is a cruel night, a raging deep,
No sign of the friendly land.
My creaking bark is tossed about
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Like a plaything by the sea;
Sad is my heart, for well I know
She watches and weeps for me.
O God! that th' weary voyage was o'er,
And my good ship safely home;
Then would I rest, and ne'er again
On the treacherous ocean roam.
III.
Some drifting boards, a broken spar,
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