Richard Lovelace: Всі вірші поета | Poetree

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A Mock Song

A Mock Song

I.

Now Whitehall's in the grave,

And our head is our slave,

The bright pearl in his close shell of oyster;

Now the miter is lost,

The proud Praelates, too, crost,

And all Rome's confin'd to a cloister.

He, that Tarquin was styl'd,

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by Richard Lovelace

Lucasta At The Bath

Lucasta At The Bath

I.

I' th' autumn of a summer's day,

When all the winds got leave to play,

LUCASTA, that fair ship, is lanch'd,

And from its crust this almond blanch'd.

II.

Blow then, unruly northwind, blow,

'Till in their holds your eyes you stow;

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by Richard Lovelace

A Dialogue Lute And Voice

A Dialogue Lute And Voice

L. Sing, Laura, sing, whilst silent are the sphears,

And all the eyes of Heaven are turn'd to ears.

V. Touch thy dead wood, and make each living tree

Unchain its feet, take arms, and follow thee.

CHORUS

L. Sing. V. Touch.

Touch. L.

Sing.

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by Richard Lovelace

A Losse Saraband

A Losse Saraband

I.

Nay, prethee, dear, draw nigher,

Yet closer, nigher yet;

Here is a double fire,

A dry one and a wet.

True lasting heavenly fuel

Puts out the vestal jewel,

When once we twining marry

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by Richard Lovelace

Ad M T Ciceronem Catul Ep 50

Ad M T Ciceronem Catul Ep 50

AD M. T. CICERONEM.

CATUL EP. 50.

Disertissime Romuli nepotum,

Quot sunt, quotque fuere, Marce Tulli,

Quotque post alios erunt in annos,

Gratias tibi maximas Catullus

Agit, pessimus omnium poeta:

Tanto pessimus omnium poeta,

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by Richard Lovelace

Ad Lesbiam, Cat Ep 73

Ad Lesbiam, Cat Ep 73

AD LESBIAM, CAT. EP. 73.

Dicebas quondam, solum to nosse Catullum,

Lesbia, nec prae me velle tenere Jovem;

Dilexi tum te, non tantum ut vulgus amicam,

Sed pater ut gnatos diligit et generos.

Nunc te cognovi, quare et impensius uror,

Multo mi tamen es vilior et levior.

Qui potis est inquis, quod amantem injuria talis

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by Richard Lovelace

A Dialogue Betwixt Cordanus And Amoret, On A Lost Heart

A Dialogue Betwixt Cordanus And Amoret, On A Lost Heart

Cord. Distressed pilgrim, whose dark clouded eyes

Speak thee a martyr to love's cruelties,

Whither away?

Amor. What pitying voice I hear,

Calls back my flying steps?

Cord. Pr'ythee, draw near.

Amor. I shall but say, kind swain, what doth become

Of a lost heart, ere to Elysium

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by Richard Lovelace

A La Chabot

A La Chabot

A LA CHABOT.

Object adorable et charmant!

Mes souspirs et mes pleurs tesmoignent mon torment;

Mais mon respect m'empeche de parler.

Ah! que peine dissimuler!

Et que je souffre de martyre,

D'aimer et de n'oser le dire!

TO THE SAME AYRE IN ENGLISH, THUS,

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by Richard Lovelace

Against The Love Of Great Ones

Against The Love Of Great Ones

Unhappy youth, betrayd by Fate

To such a love hath sainted hate,

And damned those celestiall bands

Are onely knit with equal hands;

The love of great ones is a love,

Gods are incapable to prove:

For where there is a joy uneven,

There never, never can be Heav'n:

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by Richard Lovelace

A Paradox

A Paradox

I.

Tis true the beauteous Starre

To which I first did bow

Burnt quicker, brighter far,

Than that which leads me now;

Which shines with more delight,

For gazing on that light

So long, neere lost my sight.

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by Richard Lovelace

Amarantha A Pastorall

Amarantha A Pastorall

Up with the jolly bird of light

Who sounds his third retreat to night;

Faire Amarantha from her bed

Ashamed starts, and rises red

As the carnation-mantled morne,

Who now the blushing robe doth spurne,

And puts on angry gray, whilst she,

The envy of a deity,

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by Richard Lovelace

A Fly Caught In A Cobweb

A Fly Caught In A Cobweb

Small type of great ones, that do hum

Within this whole world's narrow room,

That with a busie hollow noise

Catch at the people's vainer voice,

And with spread sails play with their breath,

Whose very hails new christen death.

Poor Fly, caught in an airy net,

Thy wings have fetter'd now thy feet;

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by Richard Lovelace