Classic Poem

This life is like a troubled sea,
Where, helm a-weather or a-lee,
The ship will neither stay nor wear,
But drives, of every rock in fear;

All seamanship in vain we try,
We cannot keep her steadily.
But, just as fortune's wind may blow
The vessel's tosticated to and fro;
Yet, come but love on board,
Our hearts with pleasure stor'd,
No storm can overwhelm,
Still blows in vain
The hurricane,
While he is at the helm.