Sonnet
I.
When I by thy faire shape did sweare,
And mingled with each vowe a teare,
I lov’d, I lov’d thee best,
I swore as I profest.
For all the while you lasted warme and pure,
My oathes too did endure.
But once turn’d faithlesse to thy selfe and old,
They then with thee incessantly grew cold.
II.
I swore my selfe thy sacrifice
By th’ ebon bowes that guard thine eyes,
Which now are alter’d white,
And by the glorious light
Of both those stars, which of their spheres bereft,
Only the gellie’s left.
Then changed thus, no more I’m bound to you,
Then swearing to a saint that proves untrue.
Other works by Richard Lovelace...
To my Worthy Friend Mr. Peter Lilly: on That Excellent Picture of His Majesty and the Duke of York, Drawne by Him at Hampton– Court
See! what a clouded majesty, and e… Whose glory through their mist dot… See! what an humble bravery doth s… And griefe triumphant breaking thr… How it commands the face! so sweet…
The Triumphs of Philamore and Amoret. to the Noblest of Our Youth and Best of Friends, Charles Cotton, Esquire. Being at Berisford, at His House in Straffordshire. From London. a Poem
Sir, your sad absence I complain,… Her long-hid spring, that gave her… Who now her cheerful aromatick hea… Shrinks in her cold and dismal wid… Whilst the false sun her lover dot…
