You restless seas, appease your roaring waves,
And you who raise huge mountains in that plain,
Air's trumpeters, your blust'ring storms restrain,
And listen to the plaints my grief doth cause.
Eternal lights, though adamantine laws
Of destinies to move still you ordain,
Turn hitherward your eyes, your axe-tree pause,
And wonder at the torments I sustain.
Earth, if thou be not dull'd by my disgrace,
And senseless made, now ask those powers above,
Why they so crost a wretch brought on thy face,
Fram'd for mishap, th' anachorite of love?
And bid them, if they would more Ætnas burn,
In Rhodope or Erymanthe me turn.