I worship is the breeze;
My rudder is my magic rod
Of rule, on isles and seas:
Blow, blow, ye winds, for lordly France,
Or shores of swarthy Spain:
Blow where ye list, of earth I'm lord,
When monarch of the main.
"When last upon the surge I rode,
A strong wind on me shot,
And tossed me as I toss my plume,