"IOLE is coy with me,
Goddess! for a month I suffer
Knowing not how far I be:
Teach me softer arts, or rougher,
Well to sail that sea."
"_Fie: how long could Love divine
Venturing, abstain from answer,
Nor look landward for a sign!
Niggard, take of thine entrancer
Shipwreck in the brine._"