A Dialogue Betwixt Cordanus And Amoret, On A Lost Heart.

A poem by Richard Lovelace

Cord. Distressed pilgrim, whose dark clouded eyes
Speak thee a martyr to love's cruelties,
Whither away?
Amor. What pitying voice I hear,
Calls back my flying steps?
Cord. Pr'ythee, draw near.
Amor. I shall but say, kind swain, what doth become
Of a lost heart, ere to Elysium
It wounded walks?
Cord. First, it does freely flye
Into the pleasures of a lover's eye;
But, once condemn'd to scorn, it fetter'd lies,
An ever-bowing slave to tyrannies.
Amor. I pity its sad fate, since its offence
Was but for love. Can[59.1] tears recall it thence?
Cord. O no, such tears, as do for pity call,
She proudly scorns, and glories at their fall.
Amor. Since neither sighs nor tears, kind shepherd, tell,
Will not a kiss prevail?
Cord. Thou may'st as well
Court Eccho with a kiss.
Amor. Can no art move
A sacred violence to make her love?
Cord. O no! 'tis only Destiny or[59.2] Fate
Fashions our wills either to love or hate.
Amor. Then, captive heart, since that no humane spell
Hath power to graspe thee his, farewell.
Cord.[59.3] Farewell.
Cho. Lost hearts, like lambs drove from their folds by fears,
May back return by chance, but not[59.4] by tears.][59.5]

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