Richard Lovelace(1618—1658)

The Scrutiny

Why should you swear I am forsworn,

　Since thine I vowed to be?

Lady it is already morn,

　And 'twas last night I swore to thee

That fond impossibility.

Have I not loved thee much and long,

　A tedious twelve hours' space?

I must all other Beauties wrong,

　And rob thee of a new embrace,

Could I still dote upon thy face.

Not, but all joy in thy brown hair,

　By others may be found;

But I must search the black and fair

　Like skilful mineralists that sound

For treasure in un-ploughed-up ground.

Then if, when I have loved my round,

　Thou prov'st the pleasant she;

With spoils of meaner Beauties crowned,

　I laden will return to thee,

Even sated with variety.

To Althea, from Prison

When love with unconfinèd wings

　Hovers within my gates;

And my divine Althea brings

　To whisper at the grates;

When I lie tangled in her hair,

　And fettered to her eye,

The Gods that wanton in the air

　Know no such liberty.

When flowing cups run swiftly round,

　With no allaying Thames,^[1]

Our careless heads with roses bound,

　Our hearts with loyal flames;

When thirsty grief in wine we steep,

　When healths and draughts go free,

Fishes that tipple in the deep

　Know no such liberty.

When, like committed linnets, I

　With shriller throat shall sing

The sweetness, mercy, majesty,

　And glories of my King:

When I shall voice aloud how good

　He is, how great should be,

Enlargèd winds that curl the flood

　Know no such liberty.

Stone walls do not a prison make,

　Not iron bars a cage;

Minds innocent and quiet take

　That for an hermitage;

If I have freedom in my love,

　And in my soul am free;

Angels alone that soar above

　Enjoy such liberty.

[1] allaying Thames=diluting water。