Delia: Sonnet 41

FAyre and louely mayde, looke from the shore,
See thy Leander striuing in these waues:
Poore soule quite spent, whose force can do no more,
Now send forth hopes, for now calme pitty saues.
And wast him to thee with those louely eyes,
A happy conuoy to a holy Land:
Now shewe thy power, and where thy vertue lyes,
To saue thine owne, stretch out the fairest hand.
Stretch out the fairest hand, a pledge of peace;
That hand that darts so right and neuer misses:
I shall forget old wrongs, my griefes shall cease;
And that which gaue me wounds, Ile giue it kisses.
O then let th'Ocean of my care find shore,
That thou be pleas'd, and I may sigh no more.