With ſteady hand th' experienc'd Pilot Steers,
And laughs in Northern Waves at Southern Fears,
Defies the two and thirty Hoſts of Air,
And ſits compoſ'd i'th' midſt of Elemental War,
All unconcern'd at Natures Quarrels, he,
To his own Uſe, applies their Enmity.
The Furious Wind, the Water's Rage,
He wiſely joins to his Juſt End, the Voyage:
In this he makes their pointed Rage agree,
And forms their Diſcord into Harmony.
So jarring Parties in a State,
By the Wiſe Conduct of the Crown,
Are manag'd to ſupport the Magiſtrate,
And fix that Power they ſtruggle to pull down.
Knowledge gives Courage, Science makes Men brave;
Folly drives headlong to the Grave:
For Ignorance and Fear make Cowards run
Into thoſe Dangers they'r afraid to ſhun.
Diſcretion only makes Men ſafe and bold,
While Fears the Remedies withhold;
Fear holds the Gates of Reaſon faſt,
Shuts out its help, and ſo the Coxcomb's loſt.
The Pilot now, Conſummate in his Skill,
Made ſafe by Nature, mounts the Watry Hill;
Thro' Paths untrod, and Mazes of the Deep,
