Cant. XII.
the Faery Queene
183
Now strike your sailes yee iolly Mariners,For we be come vnto a quiet rode,Where we must land some of our passengers,And light this weary vessell of her lode.Here she a while may make her safe abode,Till she repaired haue her tackles spent,And wants supplide. And then againe abroadOn the long voiage whereto she is bent:Well may she speede and fairely finish her intent.
Finis Lib. I.
