Like Alexander I will reign, And I will reign alone: My thoughts did evermore disdain A rival on my throne. He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the touch, To gain or lose it all.
But, if thou wilt prove faithful then And constant of thy word, I'll make thee glorious by my pen, And famous by my sword; I'll serve thee in such noble ways Was never heard before; I'll crown and deck thee all with bays And love thee more and more.
Montrose.
[XIX]
GOING TO THE WARS
Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind To war and arms I fly.
True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field, And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield.
Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore: I could not love thee, Dear, so much Loved I not Honour more.
Lovelace.
[XX]
FROM PRISON
When Love with unconfinèd wings Hovers within my gates, And my divine Althea brings To whisper at the grates; When I lie tangled in her hair And fettered to her eye, The Gods that wanton in the air Know no such liberty.