A Apostacy Of One, And But One Lady

I.
That frantick errour I adore,
And am confirm'd the earth turns round;
Now satisfied o're and o're,
As rowling waves, so flowes the ground,
And as her neighbour reels the shore:
Finde such a woman says she loves;
She's that fixt heav'n, which never moves.

II.
In marble, steele, or porphyrie,
Who carves or stampes his armes or face,
Lookes it by rust or storme must dye:
This womans love no time can raze,
Hardned like ice in the sun's eye,
Or your reflection in a glasse,
Which keepes possession, though you passe.

III.
We not behold a watches hand

[...] Read more

poem by Richard Lovelace
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Her Muffe

I.
Twas not for some calm blessing to deceive,
Thou didst thy polish'd hands in shagg'd furs weave;
It were no blessing thus obtain'd;
Thou rather would'st a curse have gain'd,
Then let thy warm driven snow be ever stain'd.

II.
Not that you feared the discolo'ring cold
Might alchymize their silver into gold;
Nor could your ten white nuns so sin,
That you should thus pennance them in,
Each in her coarse hair smock of discipline.

III.
Nor, Hero-like who, on their crest still wore
A lyon, panther, leopard, or a bore,
To looke their enemies in their herse,
Thou would'st thy hand should deeper pierce,
And, in its softness rough, appear more fierce.

[...] Read more

poem by Richard Lovelace
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Pentadii

PENTADII.

Non est, fulleris, haec beata non est
Quod vos creditis esse, vita non est:
Fulgentes manibus videre gemmas
Et testudineo jacere lecto,
Aut pluma latus abdidisse molli,
Aut auro bibere, aut cubare cocco;
Regales dapibus gravare mensas,
Et quicquid Lybico secatur arvo;
Non una positum tenere cella:
Sed nullos trepidum timere casus,
Nec vano populi favore tangi,
Et stricto nihil aestuare ferro:
Hoc quisquis poterit, licebit illi
Fortunam moveat loco superbus.

ENGLISHED.

It is not, y' are deceav'd, it is not blisse

[...] Read more

poem by Richard Lovelace
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Love Inthron'd. Ode

I.
Introth, I do my self perswade,
That the wilde boy is grown a man,
And all his childishnesse off laid,
E're since LUCASTA did his fires fan;
H' has left his apish jigs,
And whipping hearts like gigs:
For t' other day I heard him swear,
That beauty should be crown'd in honours chair.

II.
With what a true and heavenly state
He doth his glorious darts dispence,
Now cleans'd from falsehood, blood and hate,
And newly tipt with innocence!
Love Justice is become,
And doth the cruel doome;
Reversed is the old decree;
Behold! he sits inthron'd with majestie.

[...] Read more

poem by Richard Lovelace
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Love Inthron'd

I.

Introth, I do my self perswade,
That the wilde boy is grown a man,
And all his childishnesse off laid,
E're since Lucasta did his fires fan;
H' has left his apish jigs,
And whipping hearts like gigs:
For t' other day I heard him swear,
That beauty should be crown'd in honours chair.

II.

With what a true and heavenly state
He doth his glorious darts dispence,
Now cleans'd from falsehood, blood and hate,
And newly tipt with innocence!
Love Justice is become,
And doth the cruel doome;
Reversed is the old decree;

[...] Read more

poem by Richard Lovelace
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Cupid Far Gone

I.
What, so beyond all madnesse is the elf,
Now he hath got out of himself!
His fatal enemy the Bee,
Nor his deceiv'd artillerie,
His shackles, nor the roses bough
Ne'r half so netled him, as he is now.

II.
See! at's own mother he is offering;
His finger now fits any ring;
Old Cybele he would enjoy,
And now the girl, and now the boy.
He proffers Jove a back caresse,
And all his love in the antipodes.

III.
Jealous of his chast Psyche, raging he
Quarrels with student Mercurie,
And with a proud submissive breath

[...] Read more

poem by Richard Lovelace
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

To My Truely Valiant, Learned Friend; Who In His Brooke Resolv'd The Art Gladiatory Into The Mathematicks

I.
Hearke, reader! wilt be learn'd ith' warres?
A gen'rall in a gowne?
Strike a league with arts and scarres,
And snatch from each a crowne?

II.
Wouldst be a wonder? Such a one,
As should win with a looke?
A bishop in a garison,
And conquer by the booke?

III.
Take then this mathematick shield,
And henceforth by its rules
Be able to dispute ith' field,
And combate in the schooles.

IV.
Whilst peaceful learning once againe

[...] Read more

poem by Richard Lovelace
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

A Dialogue Betwixt Cordanus And Amoret, On A Lost Heart

Cord. Distressed pilgrim, whose dark clouded eyes
Speak thee a martyr to love's cruelties,
Whither away?
Amor. What pitying voice I hear,
Calls back my flying steps?
Cord. Pr'ythee, draw near.
Amor. I shall but say, kind swain, what doth become
Of a lost heart, ere to Elysium
It wounded walks?
Cord. First, it does freely flye
Into the pleasures of a lover's eye;
But, once condemn'd to scorn, it fetter'd lies,
An ever-bowing slave to tyrannies.
Amor. I pity its sad fate, since its offence
Was but for love. Can tears recall it thence?
Cord. O no, such tears, as do for pity call,
She proudly scorns, and glories at their fall.
Amor. Since neither sighs nor tears, kind shepherd, tell,
Will not a kiss prevail?
Cord. Thou may'st as well

[...] Read more

poem by Richard Lovelace
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Ad Fabullium. Catul. Lib. I. Ep. 13.

AD FABULLUM. CATUL. LIB. I. EP. 13.

Caenabis bene, mi Fabulle, apud me
Paucis, si dii tibi favent, diebus;
Si tecum attuleris bonam atque magnam
Caenam, non sine candida puella,
Et vino, et sale, et omnibus cachinnis.
Haec si, inquam, attuleris, Fabulle noster,
Caenabis bene: nam tui Catulli
Plenus sacculus est aranearum.
Sed, contra, accipies meros amores,
Seu quod suavius elegantiusve est:
Nam unguentum dabo, quod meae puellae
Donarunt Veneres Cupidinesque;
Quod tu cum olfacies, deos rogabis,
Totum te faciant, Fabulle, nasum.

ENGLISHED.

Fabullus, I will treat you handsomely

[...] Read more

poem by Richard Lovelace
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Valiant Love

I.
Now fie upon that everlasting life! I dye!
She hates! Ah me! It makes me mad;
As if love fir'd his torch at a moist eye,
Or with his joyes e're crown'd the sad.
Oh, let me live and shout, when I fall on;
Let me ev'n triumph in the first attempt!
Loves duellist from conquest 's not exempt,
When his fair murdresse shall not gain one groan,
And he expire ev'n in ovation.

II.
Let me make my approach, when I lye downe
With counter-wrought and travers eyes;
With peals of confidence batter the towne;
Had ever beggar yet the keyes?
No, I will vary stormes with sun and winde;
Be rough, and offer calme condition;
March in and pread, or starve the garrison.
Let her make sallies hourely: yet I'le find

[...] Read more

poem by Richard Lovelace
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!