Richard Lovelace
The Scrutiny | To Althea, From Prison | To Lucasta, Going To The Wars


The Scrutiny

Why should you swear I am forsworn,
Since thine I vowed to be?
Lady it is already morn,
And 'twas last night I swore to thee
That fond impossibilty.

Have I not loved thee much and long,
A tedious twelve hours' space?
I must all other Beauties wrong,
And rob thee of a new embrace;
Could I still dote upon thy face.

Not, but all joy in thy brown hair,
By others may be found;
But I must search the black and fair
Like skilful mineralists that sound
For treasure in un-plowed-up ground.

Then, if when I have loved my round,
Thou provest the pleasant she;
With spoils of meaner Beauties crowned,
I laden will return to thee,
Ev'n sated with variety.

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To Althea, From Prison

When Love with unconfined wings
Hovers within my gates,
And my divine Althea brings
To whisper at the grates;
When I lie tangled in her hair
And fetter'd to her eye,
The birds that wanton in the air
Know no such liberty.

When flowing cups run swiftly round
With no allaying Thames,
Our careless heads with roses crown'd,
Our hearts with loyal flames;
When thirsty grief in wine we steep,
When healths and draughts go free-
Fishes that tipple in the deep
Know no such liberty.

When, linnetlike confined,I
With shriller throat shall sing
The sweetness, mercy, majesty
And glories of my king;
When I shall voice aloud how good
He is, how great should be,
Enlarged winds, that curl the flood,
Know no such liberty.

Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take
That for an hermitage:
If I have freedom in my love
And in my soul am free,
Angels alone, that soar above,
Enjoy such liberty.

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To Lucasta, Going To The Wars

Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind,
That from the nunnery
Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind,
To war and arms I fly.

True, a new mistress now I chase,
The first foe in the field;
And with a stronger faith embrace
A sword, a horse, a shield.

Yet this inconstancy is such
As you too shall adore;
I could not love thee, dear, so much,
Lov'd I not honor more.

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