Classic Poem

The merchant man, whom many seas have taught
What horrors breed where wind dominion bears,
Yet never rock, nor race, such terror brought
As near his home when storm or shelf he fears;
For Nature hath that never failing scope,
Most loath to lose, the most approaching hope.

The labourer, whom tired body makes
Hold dear his work, with sighs each change attends,
But at no change so pinching care he takes
As happy shows of corn when harvest sends;
For reason will, great sight of hoped bliss,
Make great the loss, so great the fear to miss.

Thus tossed in my ship of huge desire,
Thus toiled in my work of raging love,
Now that I spy the hav'n my thoughts require,
Now that some flow'r of fruit my pains do prove,
My dreads augment the more in passion's might,
Since love with care, and hope with fear do fight.