VERSE I <br /> <br /> In a famed town of Caledonia's land, <br /> A prosperous port contiguous to the strand, <br /> A monarch feasted in right royal state; <br /> But care still dogs the pleasures of the Great, <br /> And well his faithful servants could surmise <br /> From his distracted looks and broken sighs <br /> That though the purple bowl was circling free, <br /> His mind was prey to black perplexity. <br /> <br /> At last, while others thoughtless joys invoke, <br /> Fierce from his breast the laboured utterance broke; <br /> "Alas!" he cried, "and what to me the gain <br /> Though I am king of all this fair domain, <br /> Though Ceres minister her plenteous hoard, <br /> And Bacchus with his bounty crowns my board, <br /> If Neptune still, reluctant to obey, <br /> Neglects my sceptre and denies my sway? <br /> On a far mission must my vessels urge <br /> Their course impetuous o'er the boiling surge; <br /> But who shall guide them with a dextrous hand, <br /> And bring them safely to that distant land? <br /> Whose skill shall dare the perils of the deep, <br /> And beard the Sea-god in his stormy keep? <br /> <br /> <br />VERSE II <br /> <br /> He spake: and straightway, rising from his side <br /> An ancient senator, of reverend pride, <br /> Unsealed his lips, and uttered from his soul <br /> Great store of flatulence and rigmarole; <br /> -- All fled the Court, which shades of night invest, <br /> And Pope and Gay and Prior told the rest.<br /><br />Sir Walter Raleigh<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-literature-lesson-sir-patrick-spens-in-the-eig/
