To Neptune
Hear, pow’rful Neptune, that shak’st earth in ire,
King of the great green, where dance all the quire
Of fair-hair’d Helicon; give prosperous gales;
And good pass, to these guiders of our sails,
Their voyage rend’ring happily directed,
And their return with no ill fate affected.
Grant likewise at rough Mimas’ lowest roots,
Whose strength up to her tops prærupt rocks shoots,
My passage safe arrival; and that I
My bashful disposition may apply
To pious men, and wreak myself upon
The man whose verbal circumvention
In me did wrong t’ hospitious Jove’s whole state,
And th’ hospitable table violate.