Since thy dread son will have it so. And while thou goest, our song and we Hail, holy queen of humble hearts! We in thy praise will have our parts. And though thy dearest looks must now give light To none but the blest heavens, whose bright Beholders, lost in sweet delight, Feed for ever their fair sight With those divinest eyes, which we And our dark world no more shall see; Though our poor eyes are parted so, With holy care will keep it by us. We to the last Will hold it fast, And no Assumption shall deny us. All the sweetest showers Of our fairest flowers Will we strow upon it. Though our sweets cannot make It sweeter, they can take Themselves new sweetness from it. Maria, men and angels sing, Maria, mother of our King. Live, rosy princess, live, and may the bright Live, our chaste love, the holy mirth CIII. SIR RICHARD LOVELACE, 1618-1658. TO LUCASTA. GOING BEYOND THE SEAS. 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. But I'll not sigh one blast or gale To swell my sail, Or pay a tear to 'suage The foaming blew-god's rage; For whether he will let me pass Or no, I'm still as happy as I was. 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. L So then we do anticipate Our after-fate, And are alive i' the skies, If thus our lips and eyes In heaven, their earthy bodies left behind. CIV. TO LUCASTA. GOING TO THE WARS. ELL me not, sweet, I am unkind, TELL That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind To war and arms I fly. True; a new mistress now I chase, And with a stronger faith embrace Yet this inconstancy is such I could not love thee, dear, so much, CV. TO ALTHEA; FROM PRISON. THEN Love with unconfined wings WHE Hovers within my gates, And my divine Althea brings To whisper at the grates; Know no such liberty. When flowing cups run swiftly round Know no such liberty. When, like committed linnets, I |