48. To Lucasta. 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, Lov'd I not Honour more. Carew Hazlitt's Text. |