To Lucasta, on going to the Wars.
By Col. Richard Lovelace: from the volume of his poems intitled, Lucasta, Lond. 1649, 12mo. The elegance of this writer's manner would be more admired if it had somewhat more of simplicity.
TELL me not, sweet, I am unkinde,
That from the nunnerie
Of thy chaste breast and quiet minde,
To warre and armes I flie.
True, a new mistresse now I chase,
The first foe in the field;
And with a stronger faith imbrace
A sword, a horse, a shield.
Yet this inconstancy is such,
As you too shall adore;
I could not love thee, deare, so much,
Lov'd I not honour more.