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Richard Lovelace - A Apostacy Of One, And But One Lady
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                    I.
That frantick errour I adore,
  And am confirm`d the earth turns round;
Now satisfied o`re and o`re,
  As rowling waves, so flowes the ground,
And as her neighbour reels the shore:
  Finde such a woman says she loves;
  She`s that fixt heav`n, which never moves.

                    II.
In marble, steele, or porphyrie,
  Who carves or stampes his armes or face,
Lookes it by rust or storme must dye:
  This womans love no time can raze,
Hardned like ice in the sun`s eye,
  Or your reflection in a glasse,
  Which keepes possession, though you passe.

                    III.
We not behold a watches hand
  To stir, nor plants or flowers to grow;
Must we infer that this doth stand,
  And therefore, that those do not blow?
This she acts calmer, like Heav`ns brand,
  The stedfast lightning, slow loves dart,
  She kils, but ere we feele the smart.

                    IV.
Oh, she is constant as the winde,
  That revels in an ev`nings aire!
Certaine as wayes unto the blinde,
  More reall then her flatt`ries are;
Gentle as chaines that honour binde,
  More faithfull then an Hebrew Jew,
  But as the divel not halfe so true.
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