Owen Innsley - Burnt Ships lyrics

Upon the hopeless desert of her love I landed, lured by glamour of her face. And, scarce on shore,--a desolate strange place,-- I said,--but surely some green cedar grove Awaits me, proffering its cooling shade, And in its depths melodious fountains spring; So tear the canvas from the masts and bring Planks, beams, and spars until the pile be laid. Then with my own mad hands I lit the fire, And watched with fevered eyes the dark ma** burn, So blotting out the prospect of return. But daily cools the pulse of my desire, And bitter is the redness of her lips. Oh! god of love, why did I burn my ships?