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25

When I shall voice aloud how good

He is, how great should be,
Enlarged winds, that curl the flood,

Know no such liberty.
Stone walls do not a prison make,

Nor iron bars a cage ;
Minds innocent and quiet take

That for an hermitage:
If I have freedom in my love,

And in my soul am free,
Angels alone, that soar above,
Enjoy such liberty.

Richard Lovelace.

30

XCVIII

TO LUCASTA, ON GOING BEYOND THE SEAS.

5

If to be absent were to be

Away from thee;
Or that when I am gone

You or I were alone ;

Then, my Lucasta, might I crave
Pity from blustering wind, or swallowing wave.
Though seas and land betwixt us both,

Our faith and troth,
Like separated souls,

All time and space controls :

Above the highest sphere we meet
Unseen, unknown, and greet as angels greet.
So then we do anticipate

Our after-fate,
And are alive i’ the skies,

If thus our lips and eyes

Can speak like spirits unconfined
In Heaven, their earthy bodies left behind.

Richard Lovelace.

IO

15

XCIX

A CAVALIER WAR-SONG.

5

IO

A steed, a steed, of matchless speed,

A sword of metal keen;
All else to noble hearts is dross,

All else on earth is mean.
The neighing of the war-horse proud,

The rolling of the drum,
The clangour of the trumpet loud,

Be sounds from heaven that come.
And oh! the thundering press of knights,

Whenas their war-cries swell,
May toll from heaven an angel bright,

And rouse a fiend from hell.
Then mount, then mount, brave gallants all,

And don your helms amain;
Death's couriers, Fame and Honour, call

Us to the field again.
No shrewish tears shall fill our eye,

When the sword-hilt's in our hand;
Heart-whole we'll part, and no whit sigh

For the fairest in the land.
Let piping swain and craven wight

Thus weep and puling cry;
Our business is like men to fight,
And, like to heroes, die !

Anon.

с THE SOLDIER GOING TO THE FIELD.

15

20

Preserve thy sighs, unthrifty girl,
To purify the air ;
Thy tears to thread, instead of pearl,
On bracelets of thy hair.

5

The trumpet makes the echo hoarse,
And wakes the louder drum ;
Expense of grief gains no remorse,
When sorrow should be dumb :

IO

For I must go, where lazy peace
Will hide her drowsy head;
And, for the sport of kings, increase
The number of the dead.

15

But first I'll chide thy cruel theft ;
Can I in war delight,
Who, being of my heart bereft,
Can have no heart to fight?
Thou know'st the sacred laws of old
Ordained a thief should pay,
To quit him of his theft, sevenfold
What he had stol'n away.

20

Thy payment shall but double be ;
Oh then with speed resign
My own seduced heart to me,
Accompanied with thine.

Sir William Davenant.

CI

LOYALTY CONFINED.

Beat on, proud billows; Boreas, blow;

Swell, curlèd waves, high as Jove's roof;
Your incivility doth show

That innocence is tempest-proof:
Though surly Nereus frown, my thoughts are calm;
Then strike, Affliction, for thy wounds are balm.

5

That which the world miscalls a jail,

A private closet is to me,

IO

Whilst a good conscience is my bail,

And innocence my liberty:
Locks, bars, and solitude together met,
Make me no prisoner, but an anchoret.

I, whilst I wished to be retired,

Into this private room was turned;
As if their wisdom had conspired

The salamander should be burned;
Or like a sophy that would drown a fish,
I am constrained to suffer what I wish.

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The cynic loves his poverty;

The pelican her wilderness;
And 'tis the Indian's pride to be

Naked on frozen Caucasus :
Contentment cannot smart; stoics we see
Make torments easy to their apathy.

25

These manacles upon my arm

I, as my mistress' favours, wear;
And for to keep my ancles warm,

I have some iron shackles there :
These walls are but my garrison; this cell,
Which men call jail, doth prove my citadel.

30

I'm in the cabinet locked up,

Like some high-prizèd margarite,
Or like the great mogul or pope,

Am cloistered up from public sight :
Retiredness is a piece of majesty,
And thus, proud sultan, I'm as great as thee.

35

Here sin for want of food must starve,

Where tempting objects are not seen;
And these strong walls do only serve

To keep vice out, and keep me in:

40

Malice of late's grown charitable, sure,
I'm not committed, but am kept secure.

So he that struck at Jason's life,

Thinking to have made his purpose sure,
By a malicious friendly knife

Did only wound him to a cure :
Malice, I see, wants wit; for what is meant
Mischief, ofttimes proves favour by the event.

45

50

When once my Prince affliction hath,

Prosperity doth treason seem;
And for to smooth so rough a path,

I can learn patience from him:
Now not to suffer shows no loyal heart,
When kings want ease, subjects must bear a part.

55

What though I cannot see my King,

Neither in person nor in coin;
Yet contemplation is a thing

That renders what I have not, mine:
My King from me what adamant can part,
Whom I do wear engraven on my heart?

60

Have you not seen the nightingale,

A pilgrim, coopt into a cage,
How doth she chaunt her wonted tale

In that her narrow hermitage?
Even there her charming melody doth prove
That all her bars are trees, her cage a grove.

65

I am that bird, whom they combine

Thus to deprive of liberty;
But though they do my corps confine,

Yet, maugre hate, my soul is free:
And though immured, yet can I chirp and sing
Disgrace to rebels, glory to my King.

70

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