I.
TELL me not (Sweet) I am unkinde,
That from the Nunnerie
Of thy chaste breast, and quiet minde,
To Warre and Armes I flie.
II.
True ; a new Mistresse now I chase,
The first Foe in the Field ;
And with a stronger Faith imbrace
A Sword, a Horse, a Shield.
III.
Yet this Inconstancy is such,
As you too shall adore ;
I could not love thee (Deare) so much,
Lov'd I not Honour more.
R Lovelace
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