thou having left thy deere Alcyone merrye bee?
Doo journeyes long delyght thee now? dooth now myne absence please
Thee better then my presence dooth? Think I that thou at ease
Shalt go by land? Shall I have cause but onely for to moorne?
And not to bee afrayd? And shall my care of thy returne
Bee voyd of feare? No no. The sea mee sore afrayd dooth make.
To think uppon the sea dooth cause my flesh for feare to quake.
I sawe the broken ribbes of shippes alate uppon the shore.
And oft on Tumbes I reade theyr names whose bodyes long before
The sea had swallowed. Let not fond vayne hope seduce thy mynd,
That Aeolus is thy fathrinlaw who holdes the boystous wynd
In prison, and can calme the seas at pleasure. When the wynds
Are once let looce uppon the sea, no order then them bynds.
Then neyther land hathe priviledge, nor sea exemption fynds.
Yea even the clowdes of heaven they vex, and with theyr meeting stout
Enforce the fyre with hideous noyse to brust in flashes out.
The more th