And thou mayst view his works and his own plight.

Mariners, ever leal and true,

Alas my friends have left me, all but you,

See how disasters whelmed me like a flood,

And now I welter in a surge of blood.

Ah, lady, thy report was all too true,

Too clear the tokens of an unhinged brain.

Sailors brave, whose flashing oar

Swift and sure the good ship bore,

To you I look for comfort, none but you;

Come slay me too.

O hush, essay not ill by ill to cure,

Nor aggravate the burden of thy doom.

See’st thou the bold, stout-hearted knight

Who never quailed to face the fight,

Now on tame beasts that fear no harm

He proves the puissance of his arm.

Ah me! the mockery, the scorn, the shame!

Ajax, my dearest master, speak not so.

Out with thee, woman; hence, avaunt, begone!

Ah me! ah me!