And thou shalt speed more swiftly than the wind!
XIII.
Who loves thee not is traitor to himself,
Traitor is he to God and to the grave,
Poor as a miser with his load of pelf,
And more unstable than a leeward wave.
Cursèd is he for aye, and his shall be
A name of shame from sea to furthest sea,
A name of scorn to all men under sun
Whose upright souls have learnt to loathe this one.