Faire and louely maide, looke from the shore,
See thy Leander striuing in these waues:
Poore soule fore-spent, whose force can doe no more,
Now send foorth hopes, for now calme pittie saues.
And wafte him to thee with those louely eyes,
A happy conuoy to a holy lande:
Now shew thy powre, and where thy vertue lyes,
To saue thine owne, stretch out the fayrest hand.
Stretch out the fairest hand a pledge of peace,
That hand that dartes so right, and neuer misses:
Ile not reuenge olde wrongs, my wrath shall cease;
For that which gaue me woundes, Ile giue it kisses.
Once let the Ocean of my cares finde shore,
That thou be pleas’d, and I may sigh no more.