Roll of the Dice (Tennyson)

With the trek to Joppa, the dice were cast
And I thought I saw sevens when I found
A lucky freighter: it was Tarshish-bound!
The rolling dice said bad fortune was past:
The lot was mine.

The dice were cast with a nap in the hold
Of the storm-rocked crib where I took a nap
Until the pit boss woke me with a slap:
“Call out to your god for rescue, be bold!”
The lot was mine.

The fearful sailors met to cast the dice,
The troublemaker to identify,
To ply him with questions, to find out why
Their ship was assailed by a storm this size:
The lot was mine.

Then the Sovereign whose loaded dice I threw
Resolutely, calmly crossed His own sea
Spent three days and nights beneath
Then rose again to proclaim the Good News:
“The lot was mine.”



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