Xi. Another, At Holyhead [1]

O Neptune! Neptune! must I still Be here detain'd against my will? Is this your justice, when I'm come Above two hundred miles from home; O'er mountains steep, o'er dusty plains, Half choked with dust, half drown'd with rains, Only your godship to implore, To let me kiss your other shore? A boon so small! but I may weep, While you're like Baal, fast asleep.