Thy Ship is fraught with all things worth esteem,
Having what ever men do precious deem:
O therein, as in Storehouse, plenteously,
Made full of all things by capacity,
As on the bords of memory, from Seas,
Shewing oblivion, vertu's kept at ease.

Doth a mast want to leade your Ship along?
Ad a rich mast unto your ship so strong,
Repelling hazards, that the same may glide
Close to your haven of Heaven, where you'd abide:
You'l then arrive, then do as a rich mast ;
Encountring here, with every stormy blast.