“My galley, charged with forgetfulness,Thorough sharp seas in winter nights doth pass'Tween rock and rock; and eke mine enemy, alas,That is my lord, steereth with cruelness;And every oar a thought in readiness,As though that death were light in such a case.An endless wind doth tear the sail apaceOf forced sighs and trusty fearfulness.A rain of tears, a cloud of dark disdain,Hath done the weared cords great hinderance;Wreathed with error and eke with ignorance.The stars be hid that led me to this pain.Drowned is reason that should me consort,And I remain despairing of the port.”

“The Lover Compareth his State to a Ship in Perilous Storm Tossed on the SeaMy galley chargèd with forgetfulnessThorough sharp seas, in winter nights doth pass'Tween rock and rock; and eke mine enemy, alas,That is my lord, steereth with cruelness;And every oar a thought in readinessAs though that death were light in such a case.An endless wind doth tear the sail apaceOf forcèd sighs and trusty fearfulness.A rain of tears, a cloud of dark disdain,Hath done the wearied cords great hindranceWreathèd with error and eke with ignorance.The stars be hid that led me to this pain.Drownèd is reason that should me consort,And I remain despairing of the port.”

“If there were reason for these miseries, then into limits could I bind my woes. If the winds rages, doth not the sea wax mad, threat'ning the welkin with its big-swoll'n face? And wilt though have a reason for this coil? I am the sea. Hark how her sighs doth blow. She is the weeping welkin, I the earth.”

“I wasted time, and now doth time waste me; For now hath time made me his numbering clock: My thoughts are minutes; and with sighs they jar Their watches on unto mine eyes, the outward watch, Whereto my finger, like a dial's point, Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears. Now sir, the sound that tells what hour it is Are clamorous groans, which strike upon my heart, Which is the bell: so sighs and tears and groans Show minutes, times, and hours.”

“When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow?If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad,Threatening the welking with his big-swoln face?And wilt though have a reason for this coil?I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow!She is the weeping welkin, I the earth:Then must my sea be moved with her sighs;Then must my earth with her continual tearsBecome a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd;For why my bowels cannot hide her woes,But like a drunkard must I vomit them.Then give me leave, for losers will have leaveTo ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues.”

“My soul doth magnify the Lord,And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior.”