Was it the loud boisterous wind at thy back,
Sailing upon seas of imaginings,
That waves hath toss’d and forced thine vessel tack,
Making thine ship the craft of awakings?
Was it Neptune’s rage, that turned thee ‘round
Thine bow turn windward, thy course compelling change?
Nay, t’was I, that dreamt thee in moonlight crowned,
Calming thine soul, with mine verse rearrange.
Me, that affable king of shoal waters
Which averted danger with brave prowess
As captive of love’s wave that batters;
I was flung into black ocean aimless:
But when thine approval net saved mine life,
Then found I purpose; that relieved all strife.