Thus, I steer my bark, and sail
On even keel, with gentle gale.
Though pleas'd to see the dolphins play,
I mind my compass and my way.
What though the sea be calm? trust to the shore,
Ships have been drown'd, where late they danc'd before.
Yet the best pilots have need of mariners, besides sails, anchor and other tackle.
They write here one Cornelius—Son
Hath made the Hollanders an invisible eel To swim the haven at Dunkirk, and sink all The shipping there. —But how is't done? —I'll show you, sir. It is automa, runs under water With a snug nose, and has a nimble tail Made like an auger, with which tail she wriggles Betwixt the costs of a ship and sinks it straight. Ben Jonson—Staple of News. Act III. Sc. 1. </poem>
Some love to roam o'er the dark sea's foam,
Where the shrill winds whistle free.
Thus far we run before the wind.
Nos fragili vastum ligno sulcavimus sequor.
We have ploughed the vast ocean in a fragile bark.
Ovid—Epistolce ex Pont. I. 14. 35.
Ye gentlemen of England
That live at home at ease,
Ah! little do you think upon
The dangers of the seas.
Martyn Parker—Ye Gentlemen of England.
| seealso = (See also {{sc|Southey)
A strong nor'wester's blowing, Bill!
Hark! don't ye hear it roar now?
Lord help 'em, how I pities them
Unhappy folks on shore now!
The Sailor's Consolation. Attributed to Billy
Pitt, Colman.
And that all seas are made calme and still with oile; and therefore the Divers under the water doe spirt and sprinkle it aboard with their mouthes because it dulceth and allaieth the unpleasant nature thereof, and carrieth a light with it.
Why does pouring Oil on the Sea make it Clear and Calm? Is it for that the winds, slipping the smooth oil, have no force, nor cause any waves?
Well, then—our course is chosen—spread the sail—
Heave oft the lead, and mark the soundings well—
Look to the helm, good master—many a shoal
Marks this stern coast, and rocks, where sits the Siren
Who, like ambition, lures men to their ruin.
Scott—Kenihvorth. Ch. XVII. Verses at
head of Chapter.
Merrily, merrily goes the bark
On a breeze from the northward free,
So shoots through the morning sky the lark,
Or the swan through the summer sea.
Scott—Lord of the Isles. Canto IV. St. 10.
Upon the gale she stoop'd her side,
And bounded o'er the swelling tide,
As she were dancing home;
The merry seamen laugh'd to see
Their gallant ship so lustily
Furrow the green sea-foam.
Scott—Marmion. Canto II. St. 1.
Behold the threaden sails,
Borne with the invisible and creeping wind,
Draw the huge bottomes through the furrow'd sea,
Breasting the lofty surge.
Ye who dwell at home,
Ye do not know the terrors of the main.
Cease, rude Boreas, blustering railer!
List, ye landsmen all, to me: .
Messmates, hear a brother sailor
Sing the dangers of the sea.
George A. Stevens—The Storm.
Thou bringest the sailor to his wife,
And travell'd men from foreign lands,
And letters unto trembling hands;
And, thy dark freight, a vanish'd life.
There were three sailors of Bristol City
Who took a boat and went to sea.
But first with beef and captain's biscuits
And pickled pork they loaded she.
There was gorging Jack and guzzling Jimmy,
And the youngest he was little Billee.
Now when they got as far as the Equator
They'd nothing left but one split pea.
| author = Thackeray
| work = Little Billee.
| place =
| note =
| topic = Navigation
| page = 549
}}
{{Hoyt quote
| num =
| text = <poem>On deck beneath the awning,
I dozing lay and yawning;
It was the gray of dawning,
Ere yet the Sun arose;
And above the funnel's roaring,
And the fitful wind's deploring,
I heard the cabin snoring
With universal noise.
