Weary with serving where I nought could get,
I thought to cross great Neptune's greatest seas,
To live in exile; but my drift was let
By cruel fortune, spiteful of such ease.
The ship I had to pa** in was my mind,
Greedy desire was topsail of the same,
My tears were surges, sighs did serve for wind,
Of all my ship despair was chiefest frame;
Sorrow was master; care, the cable rope;
Grief was the mainmast; love, the captain of it;
He that did rule the helm was foolish hope;
But beauty was the rock that my ship split,
Which since bath made such shipwreck of my joy
That still I swim in th' ocean of annoy.