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Lovelace, Richard, 1618-1657

"The Lucasta Poems"


Ascend the chariot of the Sun
From her bright pow'r to shelter thee:
Her captive (foole) outgases him;
Ah, what lost wretches then are we!
V.
Now, proud usurpers on the right
Of sacred beauty, heare your dombe;
Recant your sex, your mastry, might;
Lower you cannot be or'ecome:
VI.
Repent, ye er'e nam'd he or head,
For y' are in falcon's monarchy,
And in that just dominion bred,
In which the nobler is the shee.

A PROLOGUE TO THE SCHOLARS.
A COMAEDY PRESENTED AT THE WHITE FRYERS.<47.1>
A gentleman, to give us somewhat new,
Hath brought up OXFORD with him to show you;
Pray be not frighted--Tho the scaene and gown's
The Universities, the wit's the town's;
The lines each honest Englishman may speake:
Yet not mistake his mother-tongue for Greeke,
For stil 'twas part of his vow'd liturgie:--
From learned comedies deliver me!
Wishing all those that lov'd 'em here asleepe,
Promising SCHOLARS, but no SCHOLARSHIP.
You'd smile to see, how he do's vex and shake,
Speakes naught; but, if the PROLOGUE do's but take,
Or the first act were past the pikes once, then--
Then hopes and joys, then frowns and fears agen,
Then blushes like a virgin, now to be
Rob'd of his comicall virginity
In presence of you all. In short, you'd say
More hopes of mirth are in his looks then play.


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