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I-V    VI-X     XI-XV    XVI-XX    XXI-XXV     XXVI-XXX    XXXI-XXXV
XXXVI-XL    XLI-XLV    XLVI-L    LI-LV     LVI-LX    LXI-LXV    LXVI-LXX     LXXI-LXXV

  Magellan's Log Copyright © 2001 Texas Chapbook Press
www.texaschapbookpress.com

LXVI.

So, while the Vessels one by one were speaking,
One spied the little Crescent all were seeking:
And then they jogg'd each other, "Brother! Brother!
Hark to the Porter's Shoulder-knot a-creaking!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


LXVII.

Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide,
And wash my Body whence the life has died,
And in a Windingsheet of Vineleaf wrapt,
So bury me by some sweet Gardenside.


LXVIII.

That ev'n my buried Ashes such a Snare
Of Perfume shall fling up into the Air,
As not a True Believer passing by
But shall be overtaken unaware.


LXIX.

Indeed, the Idols I have loved so long
Have done my Credit in Men's Eye much wrong:
Have drown'd my Honour in a shallow Cup,
And sold my Reputation for a Song.


LXX.

Indeed, indeed, Repentance oft before
I swore--but was I sober when I swore?
And then and then came Spring, and Rose-in-hand
My thread-bare Penitence a-pieces tore.