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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=498989" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Love Inthron'd. Ode</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I.<br>Introth, I do my self perswade,<br> That the wilde boy is grown a man,<br>And all his childishnesse off laid,<br> E're since LUCASTA did his fires fan;<br> H' has left his apish jigs,<br> And whipping hearts like gigs:<br> For t' other day I heard him swear,<br>That beauty should be crown'd in honours chair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> II.<br>With what a true and heavenly state<br> He doth his glorious darts dispence,<br>Now cleans'd from falsehood, blood and hate,<br> And newly tipt with innocence!<br> Love Justice is become,<br> And doth the cruel doome;<br> Reversed is the old decree;<br>Behold! he sits inthron'd with majestie.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> III.<br>Inthroned in LUCASTA'S eye,<br> He doth our faith and hearts survey;<br>Then measures them by sympathy,<br> And each to th' others breast convey;<br> Whilst to his altars now<br> The frozen vestals bow,<br> And strickt Diana too doth go<br>A-hunting with his fear'd, exchanged bow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> IV.<br>Th' imbracing seas and ambient air<br> Now in his holy fires burn;<br>Fish couple, birds and beasts in pair<br> Do their own sacrifices turn.<br> This is a miracle,<br> That might religion swell;<br> But she, that these and their god awes,<br>Her crowned self submits to her own laws.</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>
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<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=498989" data-title="Love Inthron'd. Ode de Richard Lovelace" data-description="I.
Introth, I do my self perswade,
 That the wilde boy is grown a man,
And all his childishnesse off laid,
 E're since LUCASTA did his fires fan;
 H' has left his apish jigs,
 And whipping hearts like gigs:
 For t' other day I heard him swear,
Tha..."></div>
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