To Lucasta, Going To The Wars
Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind,
That from the nunnery
Of thy chaste breasts, and quiet mind,
To war and arms I fly.
True, a new mistress now I chase,
The first foe in the field;
And with a stronger faith embrace
A sword, a horse, a shield.
Yet this inconstancy is such,
As you too shall adore;
I could not love thee, Dear, so much,
Loved I not honour more.
Similar poems:
- A Garden, Written after the Civil Wars SEE how the flowers, as at parade, Under their colours stand display’d: Each regiment in order grows, That of the […]...
- 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 […]...
- WARS & RUMORS OF WARS “Ye shall hear of wars and rumors of wars; See that ye not be troubles; All these things must come […]...
- 233. Song-O were I on Parnassus Hill O, WERE I on Parnassus hill, Or had o’ Helicon my fill, That I might catch poetic skill, To sing […]...
- My Wars are laid away in Books My Wars are laid away in Books I have one Battle more A Foe whom I have never seen But […]...
- 237. Song-It is na, Jean, thy Bonie Face IT is na, Jean, thy bonie face, Nor shape that I admire; Altho’ thy beauty and thy grace Might weel […]...
- To Lucasta on Going to the War – For the Fourth Time It doesn’t matter what’s the cause, What wrong they say we’re righting, A curse for treaties, bonds and laws, When […]...
- To Coleridge Oh! there are spirits of the air, And genii of the evening breeze, And gentle ghosts, with eyes as fair […]...
- The Scrutiny Why should you swear I am forsworn, Since thine I vowed to be? Lady, it is already morn, And ’twas […]...
- To My Inconstant Mistress When thou, poor excommunicate From all the joys of love, shalt see The full reward and glorious fate Which my […]...
- On This Day I Complete My Thirty-Sixth Year Missolonghi, Jan. 22, 1824 ‘Tis time this heart should be unmoved, Since others it hath ceased to move: Yet, though […]...
- In Memoriam A. H. H.: The Prelude Strong Son of God, immortal Love, Whom we, that have not seen thy face, By faith, and faith alone, embrace, […]...
- A Hymn Eternal power of earth and air, Unseen, yet seen in all around, Remote, but dwelling everywhere, Though silent, heard in […]...
- The Doubter’s Prayer Eternal Power, of earth and air! Unseen, yet seen in all around, Remote, but dwelling everywhere, Though silent, heard in […]...
- Wapentake To Alfred Tennyson Poet! I come to touch thy lance with mine; Not as a knight, who on the listed […]...
- He Wonders Whether to Praise or Blame Her I have peace to weigh your worth, now all is over, But if to praise or blame you, cannot say. […]...
- Beppo Why are thou sad, my Beppo? But last eve, Here at my feet, thy dear head on my breast, I […]...
- The Minstrel Boy The Minstrel-Boy to the war is gone, In the ranks of death you’ll find him; His father’s sword he has […]...
- Awake, My Heart Awake, my heart, to be loved, awake, awake! The darkness silvers away, the morn doth break, It leaps in the […]...
- My Picture Left in Scotland I now think Love is rather deaf than blind, For else it could not be That she, Whom I adore […]...
- Harvest Day is the hero’s shield, Achilles’ field, The light days are the angels. We the seed. Against eternal light and […]...
- Wars IN the old wars drum of hoofs and the beat of shod feet. In the new wars hum of motors […]...
- 321. Song-Craigieburn Wood SWEET closes the ev’ning on Craigieburn Wood, And blythely awaukens the morrow; But the pride o’ the spring in the […]...
- Gil-galad Gil-galad was an Elven-king. Of him the harpers sadly sing: The last whose realm was fair and free Between the […]...
- A Dead Friend I. Gone, O gentle heart and true, Friend of hopes foregone, Hopes and hopeful days with you Gone? Days of […]...
- Uhland’s There were three cavaliers that went over the Rhine, And gayly they called to the hostess for wine. “And where […]...
- Sonnet 43 – How do I love thee? Let me count the ways How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height […]...
- Examination at the Womb-Door Who owns those scrawny little feet? Death. Who owns this bristly scorched-looking face? Death. Who owns these still-working lungs? Death. […]...
- Sonnet XIII: Phoebus Was Judge Phoebus was judge between Jove, Mars, and Love, Of those three gods, whose arms the fairest were: Jove’s golden shield […]...
- The Vanquished Knight I HAVE left all upon the shameful field, Honour and Hope, my God, and all but life; Spurless, with sword […]...