Out Of The Anthologie
OUT OF THE ANTHOLOGIE.
IN AN ENGLISH DISTICK.
A fool, much bit by fleas, put out the light;
You shall not see me now (quoth he); good night.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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De Catone
DE CATONE.
Invictus victis in partibus omnia Caesar
Vincere qui potuit, te, Cato, non potuit.
OF CATO.
The world orecome, victorious Caesar, he
That conquer'd all, great Cato, could not thee.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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Floridi. De Ebrioso
FLORIDI. DE EBRIOSO.
Phoebus me in somnis vetuit potare Lyaeum,
Pareo praeceptis: tunc bibo cum vigilo.
OF A DRUNKARD.
Phoebus asleep forbad me wine to take:
I yield; and now am only drunk awake.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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De Puero Et Praecone. Catul.
DE PUERO ET PRAECONE. CATUL.
Cum puero bello praeconem qui videt esse,
Quid credat, nisi se vendere discupere?
CATUL.
With a fair boy a cryer we behold,
What should we think, but he would not be sold?
poem by Richard Lovelace
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In Virgilium. Pentadii.
IN VIRGILIUM. PENTADII.
Pastor, arator, eques; pavi, colui, superavi;
Capras, rus, hostes; fronde, ligone, manu.
IN ENGLISH.
A swain, hind, knight: I fed, till'd, did command:
Goats, fields, my foes: with leaves, a spade, my hand.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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De Asino Qui Dentibus Aeneidem Consumpsit.
DE ASINO QUI DENTIBUS AENEIDEM CONSUMPSIT.
Carminis iliaci libros consumpsit asellus;
Hoc fatum Troiae est: aut equus, aut asinus.
THE ASSE EATING THE AENEIDS.
A wretched asse the Aeneids did destroy:
A horse or asse is still the fate of Troy.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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To Lucasta. Her Reserved Looks.
LUCASTA, frown, and let me die,
But smile, and see, I live;
The sad indifference of your eye
Both kills and doth reprieve.
You hide our fate within its screen;
We feel our judgment, ere we hear.
So in one picture I have seen
An angel here, the devil there.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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To Lucasta, Her Reserved Looks
Lucasta, frown, and let me die,
But smile, and see, I live;
The sad indifference of your eye
Both kills and doth reprieve.
You hide our fate within its screen;
We feel our judgment, ere we hear.
So in one picture I have seen
An angel here, the devil there.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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Upon the Curtain of Lucasta's Picture, It was Thus Wrought
Oh, stay that covetous hand; first turn all eye,
All depth and minde; then mystically spye
Her soul's faire picture, her faire soul's, in all
So truely copied from th' originall,
That you will sweare her body by this law
Is but its shadow, as this, its;--now draw.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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Oreheus To Woods
Heark! Oh heark! you guilty trees,
In whose gloomy galleries
Was the cruell'st murder done,
That e're yet eclipst the sunne.
Be then henceforth in your twigges
Blasted, e're you sprout to sprigges;
Feele no season of the yeere,
But what shaves off all your haire,
Nor carve any from your wombes
Ought but coffins and their tombes.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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