Tempest, Act 3.
I.
Speed, Halcyon, speed, and here construct thy nest:
Brood on these waves, and charm the winds to rest!
No wave should dare to rage, no wind to roar,
Till lands yon blooming maid on Lisbon’s shore.
That maid, as Venus fair and chaste is she,
When first to dazzled sky and glorying sea
The bursting conch Love’s new-born queen exposed,
The fairest pearl that ever shell inclosed.