After long stormes and tempests sad assay, Which hardly I endured heretofore, In dread of death, and daungerous dismay, With which my silly barke was tossed sore, I doe at length descry the happy shore, In which I hope ere long for to arryve: Fayre soyle it seemes from far, and fraught with store Of all that deare and daynty is alyve. Most happy he that can at last atchyve The joyous safety of so sweet a rest; Whose least delight sufficeth to deprive Remembrance of all paines which him opprest. All paines are nothing in respect of this, All sorrowes short that gaine eternall blisse | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DEAD PAN by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING BITTERNESS by VICTORIA MARY SACKVILLE-WEST THE HIGHER PANTHEISM IN A NUTSHELL by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE THE QUIET PILGRIM by EDITH MATILDA THOMAS THE VEERY'S FLUTE by LUCY BRANCH ALLEN LOVE IS MASTER STILL by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 34 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |