far from hence, a  of  Heat,
The  finds a safe
From  indecent, and from  lewd,
Which dare not there, with , intrude.
Just in the midst a  there stands,
Which Popish Minds with pious Awe commands,
Devoid  of  to heal our Woes,
Yet, deck'd with , shows
What  this wond'rous  has done,
And these the  from  won.
The  thus, on foaming Billows tost,
His , and  in the Tempest lost,
Did some kind God's assisting Pow'r implore,
And when, by Aid Divine, he reach'd the Shore,
Strait to the Temple of the God he flew,
His briny Coat he thought the Temple's Due:
And near the dropping Garment, on the Wall
He wrote, with grateful Praise, the moving Tale.