Ulysses Ties Himself to the Mast

They lash me to my ship’s stout mast, my arms
  Are pinioned with a strong and wrist thick rope,
All done that I may so escape the charms
  Of Siren songs for which there’s little hope.

My crew has stopped their ears with liquid wax,
  They cannot hear the lovely Siren’s call,
Yet now I hear it clearly! Like an axe
  Against my heart, oh, such a madrigal!

Oh, cut these bonds and free me, I command!
  And let me steer the prow to such as these
Most lovely girls that rule this fabled land,
  Oh, cut these bonds, I beg you, beg you, please!

See now their braids of streaming yellow hair?
  Such love they ache to give, oh, hear them cry,
Each body like some goddess, passing fair,
  Oh, free me now, or surely I will die!

My good shipmates, I had not thought you cruel,
  Yet now you torture me beyond belief,
So let us go, surrender to their rule,
  Oh, cut me loose and free me from this grief!

Now I grow weak and know that I will die,
  Unless into their arms I should be cast,
But wait now, men, for fainter grows their cry,
  We are now safe and sound, their rocks we’ve passed!