To Lucasta, Going to the Wars / Richard Lovelace


 * To Lucasta, Going to the Wars

I

Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind To war and arms I fly.

II

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.

III

Yet this inconstancy is such, As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not Honour more.