IDENTILIN$$ F11000A|Storm|1633|pp. 59-61\EWS\fs(L)\5-9-85\P&C:DAS\cd(DFo*)\P:EWS\o(OJn,5-23-00;MH[STC7045(A)],7-30-02)\C:JMK\3-20-01;JSC\3-21-01;8-21-02\P:AWJ\cd(TxAM.1)\1-16-05\C:JAH\2-23-05\F:JSC\2-7-06
110.00A.0HE %XTHE CALME.
110.00A.001 O%+Ur storme is past, and that storms tyrannous rage,
110.00A.002 A stupid calme, but nothing it,[~^(OJ)] doth swage.
110.00A.003 The fable is inverted, and farre more
110.00A.004 A blocke afflicts, now, then a storke before.
110.00A.005 Stormes chafe, and soone weare out themselves, or us;[~.(OJ)]
110.00A.006 In calmes, Heaven laughs to see us languish thus.
110.00A.007 As steady'[~^(OJ)]as I can wish, that my thoughts were,
110.00A.008 Smooth as thy mistresse glasse, or what shines there,
110.00A.009 The sea is now. And,[~^(OJ)] as the Iles which wee
110.00A.010 Seeke, when wee can move, our ships rooted bee.
110.00A.011 As water did in stormes, now pitch runs out
110.00A.012 As lead, when a fir'd Church becomes one spout.
110.00A.013 And all our beauty, and our trimme, decayes,
110.00A.014 Like courts removing, or like ended playes.
110.00A.015 The fighting place now seamens ragges supply;
110.00A.016 And all the tackling is a frippery.
110.00A.017 No use of lanthornes; and in one place lay
110.00A.018 Feathers and dust, to day and yesterday.
110.00A.019 Earths hollownesses, which the worlds lungs are,
110.00A.020 Have no more winde then the upper valt of aire. [CW:We]
110.00A.021 We can nor lost friends, nor sought foes recover, [p.60]
110.00A.022 But meteorlike, save that wee move not, hover.
110.00A.023 Onely the Calenture together drawes
110.00A.024 Deare friends, which meet dead in great fishes jawes:
110.00A.025 And on the hatches as on Altars lyes
110.00A.026 Each one, his owne Priest, and owne Sacrifice.
110.00A.027 Who live, that miracle do multiply
110.00A.028 Where walkers in hot Ovens, doe not dye.
110.00A.029 If in despite of these, wee swimme, that hath
110.00A.030 No more refreshing, then our brimstone Bath,
110.00A.031 But from the sea, into the ship we turne,
110.00A.032 Like parboyl'd wretches, on the coales to burne.
110.00A.033 Like %1BajaZet%2 encag'd, the sheepheards scoffe,
110.00A.034 Or like slacke sinew'd %1Sampson%2, his haire off,
110.00A.035 Languish our ships. Now, as a Miriade
110.00A.036 Of Ants, durst th'Emperours lov'd snake invade,
110.00A.037 The crawling Gallies, Sea-[~^(DFo;OJ)] goales, finny chips,
110.00A.038 Might brave our venices, now bed-ridde ships.
110.00A.039 Whether a rotten state, and hope of gaine,
110.00A.040 Or, to disuse mee from the queasie paine
110.00A.041 Of being belov'd, and loving, or the thirst
110.00A.042 Of honour, or faire death, out pusht mee first,
110.00A.043 I lose my end: for here as well as I
110.00A.044 A desperate may live, and a coward die.
110.00A.045 Stagge, dogge, and all which from, or towards flies,
110.00A.046 Is paid with life, or pray, or doing dyes.
110.00A.047 Fate grudges us all, and doth subtly lay
110.00A.048 A scourge, 'gainst which wee all forget to pray,
110.00A.049 He that at sea prayes for more winde, as well
110.00A.050 Under the poles may begge cold, heat in hell. [CW:What]
110.00A.051 What are wee then? How little more alas [p.61]
110.00A.052 Is man now, then before he was? he was
110.00A.053 Nothing; for us, wee are for nothing fit;
110.00A.054 Chance, or our selves still disproportion it.
110.00A.055 Wee have no power, no will, no sense; I lye,
110.00A.056 I should not then thus feele this miserie.
110.00A.0SSom
110.00A.0$$ One 56-ll. st, no ind; CW:What (l.50): "t" prints low on line; (JSC): *cd file name includes "MH," but title page photo indicates DFo