To Amarantha

From Immortal Poetry
Jump to: navigation, search

Amarantha sweet and fair,
Ah, braid no more that shining hair!
As my curious hand or eye
Hovering round thee, let it fly!

Let it fly as unconfined
As its calm ravisher the wind,
Who hath left his darling, th' East,
To wanton o'er that spicy nest.

Every tress must be confest,
But neatly tangled at the best;
Like a clew of golden thread
Most excellently ravelled.

Do not then wind up that light
In ribbands, and o'er cloud in night,
Like the Sun in 's early ray;
But shake your head, and scatter day!

by Richard Lovelace.

Personal tools
Categories
topics
poems by decade
seasons
users
Languages

Print
Printer friendly version

IPv6

Search:

Poetry index | Random poem | Author index | Norwegian version | Swedish version