The Song of Arion

Seated upon the crooked Dolphin's back.

Scudding amidst the purple-colour'd waves,

Gazing aloof for land; Neptune in black,

Attended with the Tritons as his slaves,

Threw forth such storms as made the air thick,

For grief his lady Thetis was so sick.

Such plaints he throbb'd, as made the Dolphin stay.

" Women, " quoth he, " are harbours of man's health, "

Pleasures for night, and comforts for the day;

What are fair women but rich nature's wealth?

Thetis is such, and more if more may be;

Thetis is sick, then what may comfort me?

" Women are sweets that salve men's sourest ills;

Women are saints, their virtues are so rare;

Obedient souls that seek to please men's wills;

Such love with faith, such jewels women are.

Thetis is such, and more if more may be;

Thetis is sick, then what may comfort me? "

With that he div'd into the coral waves,

To see his love, with all his watery slaves.

The Dolphin swam; yet this I learn'd then,

Fair women are rich jewels unto men.