Classic Poem

Rightly I 'm served, who had the heart to fly!
To the lone halcyons here I make my moan:
Nor shall my keel its wonted port draw nigh —
Adrift on thankless shore my vows are thrown.

Nay, more! the adverse winds espouse thy side!
Lo! in rude gusts how fiercely chides the gale!
Will no sweet Peace o'er yon wild tempest ride?
Must these few sands to hide my corpse avail?

Nay, change thy harsh complaints for milder tones!
Let night on yonder shoals my pardon buy.
Thou wilt not brook to leave unurned my bones:
Thou wilt not face my loss with tearless eye.

Ah! perish he who first with raft and sail
The whirlpools of a hostile deep essayed!
Liefer I 'd let my Cynthia's whims prevail,
And tarried with a hard, yet matchless, maid —

Than scan a shore with unknown forests girt,
And strain mine eyes the welcome Twins to sight.
At home had Fate but stilled my bosom's hurt,
And one last stone o'er buried love lain light,

She should have shorn her tresses o'er my tomb,
And laid my bones to rest on cushioned rose,
Called the dear name above the dust of doom,
And bade me 'neath the sod uncrusht repose.

Daughters of Doris, tenants of the deep,
Unfurl the white sail with propitious hand;
If e'er sly Love did 'neath your waters creep,
Oh! grant a fellow-slave a kindly strand.