Şiir 16
Hear Scylla bark, and see Charybdis rave,
Suck in and vomit out the threat'ning wave;
Fearless through all I'd steer my feeble barge,
Secure, and safe with the celestial charge,
But now, though here my grateful fields afford
25
Choice fruits to cheer their malancholy lord;
Though here obedient streams the gard'ner leads,
In narrow channels through my flow'ry beds;
The poplars rise, and spread a shady grove,
Where I might lie, my little life improve,
30
And spend my minutes 'twixt a muse and love:
Yet these contributes little to my ease,
For without you they lose the power to please;
I seem to walk oe'r the fields of naked sand,
Or tread an antic maze in fairy land,
35
Where frightful specires, and pale shades appear,
And hollow groans invade my troubled ear;
Where ev'ry breeze that through my arbour flies,
First sadly murmurs, and then turns to sighs.
The vines love elms; what elms from vines remove?
40
