The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] ... With a Copious Index. To which is prefixed Some Account of his Life. In Four Volumes |
I. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
XIX. |
XX. |
XXI. |
XXII. |
XXIII. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
II. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
II. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
I. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
II. |
III. |
I. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
IV. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
BALLADE OF LOVE. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] | ||
106
BALLADE OF LOVE.
Thou art the loadsterre of my love,
Which love doth many tempests fynde;
But thou canst all the stormes remove,
And whisper calme unto my mynde.
Thy balmy breathe can fille the sayle,
And bless me with a prosperous gale.
Which love doth many tempests fynde;
But thou canst all the stormes remove,
And whisper calme unto my mynde.
Thy balmy breathe can fille the sayle,
And bless me with a prosperous gale.
But, no—for this I may not hope;
On rocks thou doomest me to mourne:
My vessel without maste or rope,
All on the black rock piece-meal torne:
And there I wis without a sighe,
Thou lettest my poore vessel lye,
On rocks thou doomest me to mourne:
My vessel without maste or rope,
All on the black rock piece-meal torne:
And there I wis without a sighe,
Thou lettest my poore vessel lye,
But if thy smile would fix on me,
A safe porte then my shippe may fynde;
Then Phœbus' beams break out, I see,
And leave the tossing waves behinde.
With jocund heart then I do prove,
Thou art the loadsterre of my love.
A safe porte then my shippe may fynde;
Then Phœbus' beams break out, I see,
And leave the tossing waves behinde.
With jocund heart then I do prove,
Thou art the loadsterre of my love.
The Works of Peter Pindar [i.e. John Wolcot] | ||