Richard Lovelace

Oreheus to Beasts

I.
Here, here, oh here! EURIDICE,
   Here was she slaine;
Her soule 'still’d through a veine:
   The gods knew lesse
That time divinitie,
   Then ev’n, ev’n these
   Of brutishnesse.
 
                   II.
Oh! could you view the melodie
   Of ev’ry grace,
And musick of her face,
   You’d drop a teare,
Seeing more harmonie
   In her bright eye,
   Then now you heare.
Autres oeuvres par Richard Lovelace...



Haut