I. <br />If in me anger, or disdaine <br />In you, or both, made me refraine <br />From th' noble intercourse of verse, <br />That only vertuous thoughts rehearse; <br /> Then, chaste Ellinda, might you feare <br /> The sacred vowes that I did sweare. <br /> <br /> II. <br />But if alone some pious thought <br />Me to an inward sadnesse brought, <br />Thinking to breath your soule too welle, <br />My tongue was charmed with that spell; <br /> And left it (since there was no roome <br /> To voyce your worth enough) strooke dumbe. <br /> <br /> III. <br />So then this silence doth reveal <br />No thought of negligence, but zeal: <br />For, as in adoration, <br />This is love's true devotion; <br /> Children and fools the words repeat, <br /> But anch'rites pray in tears and sweat.<br /><br />Richard Lovelace<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-ellinda-that-lately-i-have-not-written/
