My galley
charged with forgetfulness
Thorough sharp seas, in
winter nights 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 forced 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.
Drowned is reason that should me consort,
And I remain
despairing of the port.
-Sir Thomas Wyatt the Elder
circa 1555 C.E., in the public domain