Richard Lovelace

Lovelace and Loveless Family

Richard Lovelace

(Photo Below)




Richard Lovelace (1617-1658) was the son of William and Anne Barne Lovelace (see related Early English Ancestry). Below is listed a modified chronology of his life as published in Richard Lovelace, by Manfred Weidhorn, Twayne Publishers, Inc. 1970; followed by two of his most famous poems.

Note:  The full text of the book "Lucasta" by Richard Lovelace has been transcribed via Project Gutenburg.  There are two online versions; one is a printable text file that you can view or download by clicking here.  The other is a readable online version which takes a LONG time to load; I recommend you view the text version if possible because this other version may crash your browser but here's the link if you're on high speed access or are terribly brave.  :-)
Click here for link to entire text of "Lucasta."



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.

To Althea, From Prison

When Love with unconfined wings
Hovers within my gates,
And my divine Althea brings
To whisper at the grates;
When I lie tangled in her hair,
And fetter'd to her eye,
The gods, that wanton in the air,
Know no such liberty.

When flowing cups run swiftly round
With no allaying thames,
Our careless heads with roses bound,
Our hearts with loyal flames;
When thirsty grief in wine we steep,
When healths and draughts go free,
Fishes, that ripple in the deep,
Know no such liberty.

When, like committed linnets, I
With shriller throat shall sing
The sweetness, mercy, majesty,
And glories of my king;
When I shall voice aloud how good
He is, how great should be;
Enlarged winds, that curl the flood,
Know no such liberty.

Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take
That for an hermitage;
If I have freedom in my love,
And in my soul am free,
Angels alone, that soar above,
Enjoy such liberty.

Richard Lovelace


Richard Lovelace

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Last modified: February 12, 2007