Tell me not, Sweet, by Richard Lovelace
Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind
True, a new mistress now I chase,
Yet this unconstancy is such
For, from the nunnery
Of thy chaste breast, and quiet mind,
To war and arms I fly.
The first foe in the field;
And with a stronger faith- embrace
A sword, a horse, a shield.
As you too shall adore;
For, I could not love thee, Dear, so much,
Loved I not honour more.
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