Richard Lovelace (Ричард Лавлейс)

* * *

I.

Depose your finger of that ring,
And crowne mine with't awhile;
Now I restor't. Pray, dos it bring
Back with it more of soile?
Or shines it not as innocent,
As honest, as before 'twas lent?

II.

So then inrich me with that treasure,
'Twill but increase your store,
And please me (faire one) with that pleasure
Must please you still the more.
Not to save others is a curse
The blackest, when y'are ne're the worse. 

1. When I by Thy Faire Shape Did Sweare
2. Courante Monsieur
3. Lucasta's World
4. To Lucasta, I Laugh And Sing
5. Upon the Curtain of Lucasta's Picture, It was Thus Wrought

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1821

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