What slender youth bedewed with liquid odours Courts thee on roses in some pleasant cave, Pyrrha? For whom bind’st thou In wreaths thy golden hair, Plain in thy neatness? O how oft shall he On faith and changèd gods complain: and seas Rough with black winds and storms Unwonted shall admire: Who now enjoys thee credulous, all gold, Who always vacant always amiable Hopes thee; of flattering gales Unmindful? Hapless they To whom thou untried seem’st fair. Me in my vowed Picture the sacred wall declares t’ have hung My dank and dropping weeds To the stern god of the sea.
This poem is in the public domain.