| 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, | 5 |
| The first foe in the field; | |
| And with a stronger faith embrace | |
| A sword, a horse, a shield. | |
| Yet this inconstancy is such | |
| As thou too shalt adore; | 10 |
| I could not love thee, Dear, so much, | |
| Loved I not Honour more. |
