Sonnet.

SONNET.

BY THE SAME.

MY gracious God, whose kind conducting hand Has steer'd me thro' this Life's tumultuous sea, From many a rock, and many a tempest free, Which prudence could not shun, nor strength withstand,

And brought at length almost in sight of land, That quiet haven where I long to be, Only the streights of Death betwixt, which we Are doom'd to pass, e'er reach the heavenly strand;

Be this short passage boisterous, rough, and rude, Or smooth, and calm — Father, thy Will be done — Support me only in the troublous stour; My sins all pardon'd thro' my Saviour's blood, Let Faith, and Hope, and Patience still hold on Unshaken, and Joy crown my latest hour!