Classic Poem

Fayre and lovely mayde, looke from the shore,
See thy Leander striving in these waves,
Poore soule quite spent, whose force can do no more;
Now send forth hopes, for now calme pitty saves:
And waft him to thee with those lovely eyes,
A happy convoy to a holy Lande:
Now shewe thy power, and where thy vertue lyes;
To save thine owne, stretch out the fairest hand
Stretch out the fairest hand, a pledge of peace;
That hand that dartes so right, and never misses:
I shall forget old wrongs, my griefes shall cease,
And that which gave me wounds, Ile give it kisses
O then let th'Ocean of my care find shore,
That thou be pleas'd, and I may sigh no more.