Richard Lovelace ( 4 of 4 )
I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honor more.
I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honor more.
Oh! could you view the melody
Of every grace,
And music of her face,
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Oh! could you view the melody
Of every grace,
And music of her face,
You'd drop a tear,
Seeing more harmony
In her bright eye,
Than now you hear.
Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage,
Minds innocent and quiet take
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Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage,
Minds innocent and quiet take
That for an hermitage.
Those glories come too late
That on our ashes wait.
Those glories come too late
That on our ashes wait.
