"Behold I see the haven nigh at hand,
To which I meane my wearie course to bend;
Vere the maine shete, and beare up with the land,
The which afore is fayrly to be kend,
And seemeth safe from storms, that may offend;
There this fayre virgin wearie of her way
Must landed bee, now at her journeyes end:
There eke my feeble barke a while may stay,
Till mery wynd and weather call her thence away."
From Edmund Spencer's The Faerie Queene, Book I, Canto 12, Stanza 1
