Ambrosia quench these aching limbs ashore;
The sea has bled misgiving sense from me.
Drink the wine I poured you on the bark
The image split as sunder parted we.
The island sun breaks hotly through the trees
My destiny as Duke remains a dream.
The distant bell will summon me to wake
As island natives cuff me from my sleep.
Oh, what we had, our marriage vows were true!
Oh, what we knew, our love crossed seven streams!
When pirates drew your bloodied velvet breasts
Dashing your virgin mouth on deadening screams.
My only love I ne’r got chance to wed,
And once my life sublime; now cold and dead.