189. Wherein His Lady on Boat, in Car, Sitteth and Singeth with Her Companions -
WHEREIN HIS LADY ON BOAT, IN CAR, SITTETH AND SINGETH WITH HER COMPANIONS
Twelve ladies who on rare toil lightly lean,
Twelve constellations, rather, round the sun,
I watched as the bright boat they sat upon
Burnished the waters that had never seen
The like: not such drew Jason from his queen
Toward that fatal fleece whose gold threads run
Blood, nor the boy's whose amorous verdict spun
Ilium's doom and burned whole worlds between.
I saw them next on a triumphal car,
Where, marked by her angelic attributes,
My Laura sat and sweetly sang to flutes.
Ah, not of earth such heavenly visions are!
Blest Tiphys! Blest Automedon! To guide
That boat, that car where such celestials ride!
Twelve ladies who on rare toil lightly lean,
Twelve constellations, rather, round the sun,
I watched as the bright boat they sat upon
Burnished the waters that had never seen
The like: not such drew Jason from his queen
Toward that fatal fleece whose gold threads run
Blood, nor the boy's whose amorous verdict spun
Ilium's doom and burned whole worlds between.
I saw them next on a triumphal car,
Where, marked by her angelic attributes,
My Laura sat and sweetly sang to flutes.
Ah, not of earth such heavenly visions are!
Blest Tiphys! Blest Automedon! To guide
That boat, that car where such celestials ride!
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