To Lucasia, on
Going to the Wars.
Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind,1
That from the nunnery2
Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind3
To war and arms I fly.4
True, a new mistress now I chase,5
The first foe in the field,6
And with a stronger faith embrace,7
A sword, a horse, a shield.8
Yet this inconstancy is such,9
As you too shall adore ;10
I could not love thee, Dear, so much11
Loved I not Honour more.12