Then all at full gallop make haste to advance,
"If I have wept in solitude,
And the burden of gold was in thine apron upheld.Oft did I cry, Enough! But fairer fruits were still falling
And ne'er again was seen.
Full early had he read the stern decree,
The passion that we proved.
Here must shrivel up thy form so fair;Did not I to thee a token give,
Yet he, like a man, stands by his rudder;With the bark are sporting wind and water,Wind and water sport not with his bosom:On the fierce deep looks he, as a master,--In his gods, or shipwreck'd, or safe landed,Trusting ever.
Strains the lover holds so dear,Though like sighs and wailings ringing