Lyke as a ship that through the Ocean wyde, <br />by conduct of some star doth make her way. <br />whenas a storme hath dimd her trusty guyde. <br />out of her course doth wander far astray: <br />So I whose star, that wont with her bright ray, <br />me to direct, with cloudes is ouercast, <br />doe wander now in darknesse and dismay, <br />through hidden perils round about me plast. <br />Yet hope I well, that when this storme is past <br />My Helice the lodestar of my lyfe <br />will shine again, and looke on me at last, <br />with louely light to cleare my cloudy grief, <br />Till then I wander carefull comfortlesse, <br />in secret sorow and sad pensiuenesse.<br /><br />Edmund Spenser<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xxxiiii/
