My galley, charged with forgetfulness,
Thorough sharp seas in
winter nights doth pass
'Tween rock and rock; and
eke mine enemy, alas,
That is my lord, steereth
with cruelness;
And every oar a thought
in readiness,
As though that death were light in such a
case.
An endless wind doth tear the sail apace
Of forced sighs and trusty
fearfulness.
A rain of tears, a cloud of dark disdain,
Hath done the wearied cords great hinderance;
Wreathed with error and eke with
ignorance.
The stars be hid that led me to this
pain;
Drowned is reason that should me consort,
And I remain despairing of the port.
