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Though I cannot give thee fires Glittering to my free desires; These accept, and I'll be free, Offering poppy unto thee.

Mighty Neptune, may it please Thee, the rector of the seas, That my barque may safely run Through thy watery region; And a tunny-fish shall be Offered up with thanks to thee.

For my embalming, Julia, do but this; Give thou my lips but their supremest kiss, Or else transfuse thy breath into the chest Where my small relics must for ever rest; That breath the balm, the myrrh, the nard shall be, To give an incorruption unto me.

How rich a man is all desire to know; But none inquires if good he be or no.