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Richard Lovelace

(1618-1657 / London / England)

Poems of Richard Lovelace

The Scrutinie

I.

Why shouldst thou sweare I am forsworn,
Since thine I vow'd to be?
Lady, it is already Morn,
And 'twas last night I swore to thee
That fond impossibility.

II.

[Hata Bildir]