Chapter VII: To Lucasta, on Going to the Wars

RICHARD LOVELACE.--1618-1658.

Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind,
That from the nunnery
Of thy chaste breast 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,
Lov'd I not honor more.