I.
Sing out, pent soules, sing cheerefully!
Care shackles you in liberty:
Mirth frees you in captivity.
Would you double fetters adde?
Else why so sadde?
Chorus.
Besides your pinion'd armes youl finde
Griefe too can manakell the minde.
II.
Live then, pris'ners, uncontrol'd;
Drink oth' strong, the rich, the old,
Till wine too hath your wits in hold;
Then if still your jollitie
And throats are free--
Chorus.
Tryumph in your bonds and paines,
And daunce to the music of your chaines.
More verses by Richard Lovelace
- 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
- The Lady A. L. My Asylum In A Great Exteremity.
- To Amarantha; That She Would Dishevell Her Haire
- La Bella Bona Roba. To My Lady H. Ode
- Love Inthron'D. Ode