I. <br />I' th' autumn of a summer's day, <br />When all the winds got leave to play, <br />LUCASTA, that fair ship, is lanch'd, <br />And from its crust this almond blanch'd. <br /> <br /> II. <br />Blow then, unruly northwind, blow, <br />'Till in their holds your eyes you stow; <br />And swell your cheeks, bequeath chill death; <br />See! she hath smil'd thee out of breath. <br /> <br /> III. <br />Court, gentle zephyr, court and fan <br />Her softer breast's carnation wan; <br />Your charming rhethorick of down <br />Flyes scatter'd from before her frown. <br /> <br /> IV. <br />Say, my white water-lilly, say, <br />How is't those warm streams break away, <br />Cut by thy chast cold breast, which dwells <br />Amidst them arm'd in isicles? <br /> <br /> V. <br />And the hot floods, more raging grown, <br />In flames of thee then in their own, <br />In their distempers wildly glow, <br />And kisse thy pillar of fix'd snow. <br /> <br /> VI. <br />No sulphur, through whose each blew vein <br />The thick and lazy currents strein, <br />Can cure the smarting nor the fell <br />Blisters of love, wherewith they swell. <br /> <br /> VII. <br />These great physicians of the blind, <br />The lame, and fatal blains of Inde <br />In every drop themselves now see <br />Speckled with a new leprosie. <br /> <br /> VIII. <br />As sick drinks are with old wine dash'd, <br />Foul waters too with spirits wash'd, <br />Thou greiv'd, perchance, one tear let'st fall, <br />Which straight did purifie them all. <br /> <br /> IX. <br />And now is cleans'd enough the flood, <br />Which since runs cleare as doth thy blood; <br />Of the wet pearls uncrown thy hair, <br />And mantle thee with ermin air. <br /> <br /> X. <br />Lucasta, hail! fair conqueresse <br />Of fire, air, earth and seas! <br />Thou whom all kneel to, yet even thou <br />Wilt unto love, thy captive, bow.<br /><br />Richard Lovelace<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lucasta-at-the-bath/
