The raging Sea, that roares, with fearefull sounde,
And threatneth all the worlde to overflowe:
The shore sometimes, his billowes doth rebounde,
Though ofte it winnes, and gives the earthe a blowe
Sometimes, where shippes did saile: it makes a lande.
Sometimes againe they saile: where townes did stande.
So, if the Lorde did not his rage restraine,
And set his boundes, so that it can not passe:
The worlde shoulde faile, and man coulde not remaine,
But all that is, shoulde soone be turn'd to was:
By raging Sea, is ment our ghostlie foe,
By earthe, mans soule: he seekes to overthrowe.
And as the surge doth worke both daie, and nighte,
And shakes the shore, and ragged rockes doth rente:
So Sathan stirres, with all his maine, and mighte,
Continuall siege, our soules to circumvente.
Then watche, and praie, for feare wee sleepe in sinne,
For cease our crime: and hee can nothing winne.