Love
Abraham Cowley
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I'll sing of heroes, and of kings,
In mighty numbers, mighty things.
Begin, my Muse! but lo! the strings
To my great song rebellious prove;
The strings will sound of naught but love.
-I broke them all, and put on new;
-'Tis this or nothing now will do.
"These sure," said I, "will me obey;
These sure heroic notes will play."
Straight I began with thundering Jove
And all th' immortal powers but Love.
Love smil'd, and from my enfeebled lyre
Came gentle airs, such as inspire
Melting love, and soft desire.--
Farewell, then, heroes! farewell, kings!
And mighty numbers, mighty things!
Love tunes my heart just to my strings.
In mighty numbers, mighty things.
Begin, my Muse! but lo! the strings
To my great song rebellious prove;
The strings will sound of naught but love.
-I broke them all, and put on new;
-'Tis this or nothing now will do.
"These sure," said I, "will me obey;
These sure heroic notes will play."
Straight I began with thundering Jove
And all th' immortal powers but Love.
Love smil'd, and from my enfeebled lyre
Came gentle airs, such as inspire
Melting love, and soft desire.--
Farewell, then, heroes! farewell, kings!
And mighty numbers, mighty things!
Love tunes my heart just to my strings.
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