Here you will find the Poem Sonnet LXIII of poet Edmund Spenser
AFter long stormes and tempests sad assay, Which hardly I endured heretofore: in dread of death and daungerous dismay, with which my silly barke was tossed sore. I doe at length descry the happy shore, in which I hope ere long for to arryue, fayre soyle it seemes from far & fraught with store of all that deare and daynty is alyue. Most happy he that can at last atchyue, the ioyous safety of so sweet a rest: whose least delight sufficeth to depriue, remembrance of all paines which him opprest. All paines are nothing in respect of this, all sorrowes short that gaine eternall blisse.