The sudden storms that heave me to and for Had well-near pierced faith, my guiding sail, For I, that on the noble voyage go To succor truth and falsehood to assail, Constrained am to bear my sails full low And never could attain some pleasant gale, For unto such the prosperous winds do blow As run from port to port to seek avail. This bred despair, whereof such doubts did grow That I gan faint, and all my courage fail. But now, my Blage, mine error well I see: Such goodly light King David giveth me. |