The essayes of a prentise, in the diuine art of poesie

SONNET. 7.

AND when I do descriue the Oceans force, Graunt syne, ô Neptune, god of seas profound, That readars think on leebord, and on dworce, And how the Seas owerflowed this massiue round: Yea, let them think, they heare a stormy sound, Which threatnis wind, and darknes come at hand: And water in their shipps syne to abound, By weltring waues, lyke hyest towres on land. Then let them thinke their shipp now low on sand, Now climmes & skippes to top of rageing seas, Now downe to hell, when shippmen may not stand, But lifts their hands to pray thee for some eas. Syne let them think thy Trident doth it calme, Which maks it cleare and smothe lyke glas or alme.