RICHARD LOVELACE
352 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 thou too shah adore; I could not love thee, Dear, so much,
Loved I not Honour more.
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��353 To Lucasta, going beyond the Seas
- F to be absent were to be
Away from thec; Or that when I am gone You or I were alone, Then, my Lucasta, might I crave Pity from blustering wind or swallowing wave.
But I'll not sigh one blast or gale
To swell my sail, Or pay a tear to 'suagc The foaming blue god's rage; For whether he will let me pass Or no, Pm still as happy as I was.
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