To Lucasta, Going Beyond The Seas
Richard Lovelace
If to be absent were to be Away from thee; Or that when I am gone, You or I were alone,— Then, my Lucasta, might I crave Pity from blust’ring wind or swallowing wave. But I’ll not sigh one blast or gale To swell my sail, Or pay a tear to ’suage The foaming blue god’s rage; For whether he will let me pass Or no, I’m still as happy as I was. Though seas and land betwixt us both, Our faith and troth, Like separated souls, All time and space controls: Above the highest sphere we meet Unseen, unknown, and greet as angels greet. So then we do anticipate Our after-fate, And are alive i’th’ skies, If thus our lips and eyes Can speak like spirits unconfined In Heaven, their earthy bodies left behind.
Next 10 Poems
- Richard Lovelace : To Lucasta, Going To The Wars
- Richard Lovelace : To Lucasta, Her Reserved Looks
- Richard Lovelace : To Lucasta, I Laugh And Sing
- Richard Lovelace : To Lucasta, Like To The Sentinel Stars
- Richard Lovelace : To Lucasta. Going To The Warres.
- Richard Lovelace : To Lucasta. The Rose.
- Richard Lovelace : To My Dear Friend Mr. E[ldred] R[evett]. On His Poems Moral And Divine
- Richard Lovelace : To My Noble Kinsman Thomas Stanley, Esq. On His Lyrick Poems Composed By Mr. John Gamble.
- Richard Lovelace : To My Truely Valiant, Learned Friend; Who In His Brooke Resolv'd The Art Gladiatory Into The Mathematicks
- Richard Lovelace : To My Worthy Friend Mr. Peter Lilly: On That Excellent Picture Of His Majesty And The Duke Of York, Drawne By Him At Hampton- Court
Previous 10 Poems
- Richard Lovelace : To Lucasta, From Prison
- Richard Lovelace : To Lucasta Ode Lyrick
- Richard Lovelace : To Lucasta From Prison An Epode
- Richard Lovelace : To Lucasta
- Richard Lovelace : To His Fairest Valentine Mrs. A. L.
- Richard Lovelace : To His Deare Brother Colonel F. L. Immoderately Mourning My Brothers Untimely Death At Carmarthen
- Richard Lovelace : To Fletcher Reviv'd
- Richard Lovelace : To Ellinda, That Lately I Have Not Written
- Richard Lovelace : To Ellinda Upon His Late Recovery. A Paradox
- Richard Lovelace : To Dr. F. B[eale]; On His Book Of Chesse.