The Poems of Henry Howard :: :: University of Virginia Library

I that Vlysses yeres haue spent
To seeke Penelope,
Finde well what folly I haue ment
To seke that was not so,
Sinse Troylous case hath caused me
From Cressed for to go.

And to bewaile Vlysses truth
In seas and stormy skies
Of wanton will and raging youth,
Wherewith I have tossed sore
From Cillas seas to Carribes clives
Vpon the drowning shore.

Where I sought hauen, there found I hap,
From daunger vnto death,
Much like the mouse that treades the trap
In hope to finde her foode,
And bites the bread that stops her breath;
So in like case I stoode.

Till now repentance hasteth him
To further me so fast
That where I sanke, there now I swim,
And haue both streame and winde,
And lucke as good, if it may last,
As any man may finde.

That where I perished, safe I passe,
And find no perill there,
But stedy stone, no ground of glasse.
Now am I sure to saue,
And not to flete from feare to feare,
Such anker hold I haue.