AMPHORA IV HOU star at sea, that still dost point The unimaginable goal, With eucharistic rays anoint The wounds of this my sinful soul ! The seas are strong, the charts obscure ; The compass spells a traitor rune. Do thou exalt thy loyal lure Above the dead deceitful moon ! The sailors mutiny ; the storm Wilder and wilder shrieks and wails, And phantoms ghastly and difform Haunt thy poor captain as he sails. Grant, as death’s iceberg threatens me, Sin’s fog, Satanic spite that bars, That I may keep these eyes on Thee, Star on the sea that blots the stars ! Amen. T 6