I. <br /> I laugh and sing, but cannot tell <br /> Whether the folly on't sounds well; <br /> But then I groan, <br /> Methinks, in tune; <br />Whilst grief, despair and fear dance to the air <br /> Of my despised prayer. <br /> <br /> II. <br /> A pretty antick love does this, <br /> Then strikes a galliard with a kiss; <br /> As in the end <br /> The chords they rend; <br />So you but with a touch from your fair hand <br /> Turn all to saraband.<br /><br />Richard Lovelace<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-lucasta/
