In painted sterns no reassurance finds;
Unless you owe derision to the winds,
Beware--beware!

My grief erewhile,
But now my care--my longing! shun the seas
That flow between the gleaming Cyclades,
Each shining isle.




QUITTING AGAIN

The hero of
Affairs of love
By far too numerous to be mentioned,
And scarred as I'm,
It seemeth time
That I were mustered out and pensioned.

So on this wall
My lute and all
I hang, and dedicate to Venus;
And I implore
But one thing more
Ere all is at an end between us.

O goddess fair
Who reignest where