Let fife and flute, and sackbut in accord
Proclaim, Aboard! Aboard!
Thy pinnace waits thee at the slip, lord Admiral, aboard!
And as he hears the summons Love makes for him reply,
"O whither, cruel fortune, wilt thou bid the warrior fly?
Must I seek thee in the ocean, where the winds and billows roar?
Must I seek thee there, because in vain I sought thee on the shore?
And dost thou think the ocean, crossed by my flashing sail,
With all its myriad waters and its rivers, can avail
To quench the ardent fire of love that rages in my breast,