In honourable fight; our hero, set
In a small shallop, Fortune in his debt,
So near a hope of crowns and sceptres, more
Than ever Priam, when he flourish’d, wore;
His loins yet full of ungot princes, all
His glory in the bud, lets nothing fall
That argues fear; if any thought annoys
The gallant youth, ’tis love’s untasted joys, 100
And dear remembrance of that fatal glance,
For which he lately pawn’d his heart[5] in France;
Where he had seen a brighter nymph than she[6]
That sprung out of his present foe, the sea. 
That noble ardour, more than mortal fire,
The conquer’d ocean could not make expire;
Nor angry Thetis raise her waves above
Th’ heroic Prince’s courage or his love;
’Twas indignation, and not fear he felt,
The shrine should perish where that image dwelt. 
Ah, Love forbid! the noblest of thy train 111
Should not survive to let her know his pain;
Who nor his peril minding, nor his flame,
Is entertain’d with some less serious game,
Among the bright nymphs of the Gallic court,
All highly born, obsequious to her sport;
They roses seem, which in their early pride
But half reveal, and half their beauties hide;
She the glad morning, which her beams does throw
Upon their smiling leaves, and gilds them so; 120
Like bright Aurora, whose refulgent ray
Foretells the fervour of ensuing day,
And warns the shepherd with his flocks retreat
To leafy shadows from the threaten’d heat.

From Cupid’s string, of many shafts that fled
Wing’d with those plumes which noble Fame had shed,
As through the wond’ring world she flew, and told
Of his adventures, haughty, brave, and bold,
Some had already touch’d the royal maid,
But Love’s first summons seldom are obey’d; 130
Light was the wound, the Prince’s care unknown,
She might not, would not, yet reveal her own. 
His glorious name had so possess’d her ears,
That with delight those antique tales she hears
Of Jason, Theseus, and such worthies old,
As with his story best resemblance hold. 
And now she views, as on the wall it hung,
What old Musaeus so divinely sung;
Which art with life and love did so inspire,
That she discerns and favours that desire, 140
Which there provokes th’advent’rous youth to swim,
And in Leander’s danger pities him;
Whose not new love alone, but fortune, seeks
To frame his story like that amorous Greek’s.

For from the stern of some good ship appears
A friendly light, which moderates their fears;
New courage from reviving hope they take,
And climbing o’er the waves that taper make,
On which the hope of all their lives depends,
As his on that fair Hero’s hand extends. 150
The ship at anchor, like a fixed rock,