<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=498929" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Lady With A Falcon On Her Fist. To The Honourable My Cousin A[nne] L[ovelace]</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I.<br>This Queen of Prey (now prey to you),<br> Fast to that pirch of ivory<br>In silver chaines and silken clue,<br> Hath now made full thy victory:</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> II.<br>The swelling admirall of the dread<br> Cold deepe, burnt in thy flames, oh faire!<br>Wast not enough, but thou must lead<br> Bound, too, the Princesse of the aire?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> III.<br>Unarm'd of wings and scaly oare,<br> Unhappy crawler on the land,<br>To what heav'n fly'st? div'st to what shoare,<br> That her brave eyes do not command?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> IV.<br>Ascend the chariot of the Sun<br> From her bright pow'r to shelter thee:<br>Her captive (foole) outgases him;<br> Ah, what lost wretches then are we!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> V.<br>Now, proud usurpers on the right<br> Of sacred beauty, heare your dombe;<br>Recant your sex, your mastry, might;<br> Lower you cannot be or'ecome:</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> VI.<br>Repent, ye er'e nam'd he or head,<br> For y' are in falcon's monarchy,<br>And in that just dominion bred,<br> In which the nobler is the shee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Richard+Lovelace">Richard Lovelace</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=498929" data-title="A Lady With A Falcon On Her Fist. To The Honourable My Cousin A[nne] L[ovelace] de Richard Lovelace" data-description="I. This Queen of Prey (now prey to you), Fast to that pirch of ivory In silver chaines and silken clue, Hath now made full thy victory: II. The swelling admirall of the dread Cold deepe, burnt in thy flames, oh faire! Wast not enough, but th..."></div> </div> </div>

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