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.
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.
More verses by Richard Lovelace
- The Duell
- A La Chabot
- A La Bourbon. Done Moy Plus De Pitie Ou Plus De Creaulte, Car Sans Ci Ie Ne Puis Pas Viure, Ne Morir
- A Guiltlesse Lady Imprisoned: After Penanced. Song
- Sonnet. To Generall Goring, After The Pacification At Berwicke. A La Chabot.