Richard Lovelace Poems
" To His Fairest Valentine Mrs. A. L.
"Come, pretty birds, present your lays,
And learn to chaunt a goddess praise;
Ye wood-nymphs, let your voices be
Employ'd to serve her deity:
And warble forth, ye virgins nine,
Some music to my Valentine.
"Her bosom is love's paradise,
There is no heav'n but in her eyes;
She's chaster than the turtle-dove,
And fairer than the queen of love:
Yet all perfections do combine
To beautifie my Valentine.
"She's Nature's choicest cabinet,
Where honour, beauty, worth and wit
Are all ...
Mart. Lib. I. Epi. 14.
MART. LIB. I. EPI. 14.
Casta suo gladium cum traderet Arria Paeto,
Quem de visceribus traxerat ipsa suis;
Si qua fides, vulnus quod feci non dolet, inquit:
Sed quod tu facies, hoc mihi, Paete, dolet.