Orpheus 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.
Other works by Richard Lovelace...
To my Worthy Friend Mr. Peter Lilly : on that excellent Picture of his Majesty, and the Duke of Yorke, drawne by him at Hampton-Court
SEE! what a clouded Majesty! a… Whose glory through their mist dot… See! what an humble bravery doth… And griefe triumphant breaking thr… How it commands the face! so swee…
