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Poem by Richard Lovelace To Chloe, Courting Her For His Friend I. Chloe, behold! againe I bowe: Againe possest, againe I woe; From my heat hath taken fire Damas, noble youth, and fries, Gazing with one of mine eyes, Damas, halfe of me expires: Chloe, behold! Our fate's the same. Or make me cinders too, or quench his flame II. I'd not be King, unlesse there sate Lesse lords that shar'd with me in state Who, by their cheaper coronets, know, What glories from my diadem flow: Its use and rate values the gem: Pearles in their shells have no esteem; And, I being sun within thy sphere, 'Tis my chiefe beauty thinner lights shine there. III. The Us'rer heaps unto his store By seeing others praise it more; Who not for gaine or want doth covet, But, 'cause another loves, doth love it: Thus gluttons cloy'd afresh invite Their gusts from some new appetite; And after cloth remov'd, and meate, Fall too againe by seeing others eate. Richard Lovelace Richard Lovelace's other poems: 1313 Views |
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