Sonet 55 Poem by William Alexander

I enuie Neptune oft, not that his hands
Did build that loftie Ilions stately towers,
Nor that he Emperour of the liquid pow'rs,
Doth brooke a place amongst the immortall bands,
But that embracing her whom I loue best,
As Achilous with Alcides once,
Still wrestling with the riuall earth he grones,
For earnestnes t'ouerflow her happie nest:
Thus would he barre me from her presence still,
For when I come afield, he fann'd my sailes,
With mild Zephires faire yet prosprous gailes,
And like t'Vlysses gaue me wind at will:
But when I would returne, O what deceit,
With tumbling waues thou barr'st the glassie gate!