Richard Lovelace (1) (1618–1657)

As a way of wishing Happy New Year to all the beautiful ladies on Goodreads, I'd like to share some of my favorite lines of poetry:

Song to Amarantha, that she would Dishevel her Hair
By Richard Lovelace

Amarantha sweet and fair
Ah braid no more that shining hair!
As my curious hand or eye
Hovering round thee let it fly.

Let it fly as unconfin’d
As its calm ravisher, the wind,
Who hath left his darling th’East,
To wanton o’er that spicy nest.

Ev’ry tress must be confest
But neatly tangled at the best;
Like a clue of golden thread,
Most excellently ravelled.

Do not then wind up that light
In ribands, and o’er-cloud in night;
Like the sun in’s early ray,
But shake your head and scatter day.… (mehr)