Читать книгу The Golden Treasury - Unknown - Страница 87

     Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind

       That from the nunnery

     Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind,

       To war and arms I fly.

     True, a new mistress now I chase,

       The first foe in the field;

     And with a stronger faith embrace

       A sword, a horse, a shield.

     Yet this inconstancy is such

       As you too shalt adore;

     I could not love thee, Dear, so much,

       Loved I not Honour more.