Dearest V,

Aphrodite doth meddle

And to her power I bend

Lifted foot off treadle

My heart, prithee, gently rend

Love’s arrow lost from quiver

Pierced keel, my ship’s unroved

Her voice does call me hither

Her sway, like wind tided grove

She, who stirs both pearl and oyster,

Who inspires my mortal mirth,

Persuade me out the harbor

Cast me from my frigid firth

Eros, still, my arms lull

Cruel one, be clement 

Shall the next one too be null

Thou again shall hear my lament