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Salamanca, Spain
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My galley chargèd with forgetfulness
Through sharp seas, in winter night 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 apace
Of forcèd sighs and trusty fearfulness.
A rain of tears, a cloud of dark disdain,
Hath done the wearied cords great hinderance,
Wreathed 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.
thomas wyatt