Ad amicam navigantem
The lofty pine, from high Mount Pelion raught,
Ill ways by rough seas wond'ring waves first taught,
Which rashly 'twixt the sharp rocks in the deep
Carried the famous golden-fleeced sheep.
O would that no oars might in seas have sunk,
The Argos wracked had deadly waters drunk.
Lo, country gods and known bed to forsake
Corinna means, and dangerous ways to take.
For thee the east and west winds make me pale,
With icy Boreas, and the southern gale.
Thou shalt admire no woods or cities there,
The unjust seas all bluish do appear.
The ocean hath no painted stones or shells,
The sucking shore with their abundance swells.
Maids, on the shore with marble-white feet tread,
So far 'tis safe; but to go farther dread.
Let others tell how winds fierce battles wage,
How Scylla's and Charybdis' waters rage,
And with what rocks the feared Cerannia threat,
In what gulf either Syrtes have their seat.
Let others tell this, and what each one speaks
Believe; no tempest the believer wreaks.
Too late you look back, when with anchors weighed,
The crooked bark hath her swift sails displayed.
The careful shipman now fears angry gusts,
And with the waters sees death near him thrusts.
But if that Triton toss the troubled flood,
In all thy face will be no crimson blood.
Then wilt thou Leda's noble twin-stars pray,
And " he is happy whom the earth holds" say.
It is more safe to sleep, to read a book,
The Thracian harp with cunning to have strook;
But if my words with winged storms hence slip,
Yet, Galatea, favour thou her ship.
The loss of such a wench much blame will gather,
Both to the sea-nymphs and the sea-nymphs' father.
Go, minding to return with prosperous wind,
Whose blast may hither strongly be inclined,
Let Nereus bend the waves unto this shore,
Hither the winds blow, here the spring-tide roar.
Request mild Zephyr's help for thy avail,
And with thy hand assist the swelling sail.
I from the shore thy known ship first will see,
And say it brings her that preserveth me.
I'll clip and kiss thee with all contentation,
For thy return shall fall the vowed oblation,
And in the form of beds we'll strew soft sand,
Each little hill shall for a table stand:
There wine being filled, thou many things shalt tell,
How almost wracked thy ship in main seas fell,
And hasting to me, neither darksome night,
Nor violent south winds did thee aught affright.
I'll think all true, though it be feigned matter;
Mine own desires why should myself not flatter?
Let the bright day-star cause in heaven this day be,
To bring that happy time so soon as may be.
The lofty pine, from high Mount Pelion raught,
Ill ways by rough seas wond'ring waves first taught,
Which rashly 'twixt the sharp rocks in the deep
Carried the famous golden-fleeced sheep.
O would that no oars might in seas have sunk,
The Argos wracked had deadly waters drunk.
Lo, country gods and known bed to forsake
Corinna means, and dangerous ways to take.
For thee the east and west winds make me pale,
With icy Boreas, and the southern gale.
Thou shalt admire no woods or cities there,
The unjust seas all bluish do appear.
The ocean hath no painted stones or shells,
The sucking shore with their abundance swells.
Maids, on the shore with marble-white feet tread,
So far 'tis safe; but to go farther dread.
Let others tell how winds fierce battles wage,
How Scylla's and Charybdis' waters rage,
And with what rocks the feared Cerannia threat,
In what gulf either Syrtes have their seat.
Let others tell this, and what each one speaks
Believe; no tempest the believer wreaks.
Too late you look back, when with anchors weighed,
The crooked bark hath her swift sails displayed.
The careful shipman now fears angry gusts,
And with the waters sees death near him thrusts.
But if that Triton toss the troubled flood,
In all thy face will be no crimson blood.
Then wilt thou Leda's noble twin-stars pray,
And " he is happy whom the earth holds" say.
It is more safe to sleep, to read a book,
The Thracian harp with cunning to have strook;
But if my words with winged storms hence slip,
Yet, Galatea, favour thou her ship.
The loss of such a wench much blame will gather,
Both to the sea-nymphs and the sea-nymphs' father.
Go, minding to return with prosperous wind,
Whose blast may hither strongly be inclined,
Let Nereus bend the waves unto this shore,
Hither the winds blow, here the spring-tide roar.
Request mild Zephyr's help for thy avail,
And with thy hand assist the swelling sail.
I from the shore thy known ship first will see,
And say it brings her that preserveth me.
I'll clip and kiss thee with all contentation,
For thy return shall fall the vowed oblation,
And in the form of beds we'll strew soft sand,
Each little hill shall for a table stand:
There wine being filled, thou many things shalt tell,
How almost wracked thy ship in main seas fell,
And hasting to me, neither darksome night,
Nor violent south winds did thee aught affright.
I'll think all true, though it be feigned matter;
Mine own desires why should myself not flatter?
Let the bright day-star cause in heaven this day be,
To bring that happy time so soon as may be.