Poem by Richard Lovelace

To Lucasta, I Laugh And Sing

I.

I laugh and sing, but cannot tell
Whether the folly on't sounds well;
But then I groan,
Methinks, in tune;
Whilst grief, despair and fear dance to the air
Of my despised prayer.

II.

A pretty antick love does this,
Then strikes a galliard with a kiss;
As in the end
The chords they rend;
So you but with a touch from your fair hand
Turn all to saraband. 

1. The Scrutinie
2. Oreheus To Woods
3. Cupid Far Gone
4. The Vintage to the Dungeon
5. Lucasta Weeping

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