Social Commentaries
The Pine to the Mariner
From Epitaphes, Epigrams, Songs and Sonets (1567)
O Man of little Wit,
What meanes this frantick fit,
To make thy Ship of mée
That am a slender Trée,
Whome erie blast that blowes
Full lightly ouerthrowes?
Doth this not mooue thy minde
That rage of roring winde
Did beate my boughes agood
When earst I grue in Wood?
How can I here auoyde
The foe that there anoyde?
Thinkst thou now I am made
A Vessell for thy trade,
I shall be more at ease
Amid the flasshing Seas?
I feare if Aeole frowne,
Both thou and I shall drowne.
Cite this poem
MLA
Turberville, George. “The Pine to the Mariner.” Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/turberville/81/.
Chicago
Turberville, George. “The Pine to the Mariner.” Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/turberville/81/.
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More by George Turberville
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- Againe
- A request of Friendship to Vulcans Wyfe made my Mars