| |
| THOUGH this the port, and I thy servant true, | |
| And thou thyself doth cast thy beams from high | |
| From thy chief house, promising to renew | |
| Both joy and eke delight, behold yet how that I, | |
| Banished from my bliss, carefully do cry. | 5 |
| Help now Cytheræa! my lady dear. | |
| My fearful trust, ‘En vogant la Galere.’ | |
| Alas! the doubt that dreadful absence giveth! | |
| Without thine aid assurance is there none; | |
| The firm faith that in the water fleteth, | 10 |
| Succour thou therefore, in thee it is alone. | |
| Stay that with faith, that faithfully doth moan, | |
| Thou also givest me both hope and fear, | |
| Remember me then, ‘En vogant Galere.’ | |
| By seas, and hills elonged from thy sight, | 15 |
| Thy wonted grace reducing to my mind, | |
| Instead of sleep thus I occupy the night; | |
| A thousand thoughts, and many doubts I find, | |
| And still I trust thou canst not be unkind, | |
| Or else despair my comfort and my chere | 20 |
| Would she forthwith, ‘En vogant la Galere.’ | |
| Yet, on my faith! full little doth remain | |
| Of any hope whereby I may myself uphold; | |
| For since that only words do me retain, | |
| I may well think the affection is but cold. | 25 |
| But since my will is nothing as I would, | |
| And in thy hands it resteth whole and clear, | |
| Forget me not, ‘En vogant la Galere.’ | |
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