1.
‖: Steer hither, steer, your winged pines
All beaten mariners,
Here lie love’s undiscover’d mines
A prey to passengers;
Perfumes far sweeter than the best
Which make the Phoenix urn and nest.
Fear not your ships
Nor any to oppose you save our lips, :‖
‖: But come on shore
Where no joy dies till love hath gotten more. :‖
2.
‖: For swelling waves, our panting breasts
Where never storms arise
Exchange; and be a while our guests:
For stars, gaze on our eyes.
The compass, love shall hourly sing,
And as he goes about the ring,
We will not miss
To tell each point he nameth with a kiss. :‖
‖: Then come on shore
Where no joy dies till love hath gotten more. :‖