English Poetry I: From Chaucer to Gray.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
Richard Lovelace
239. To Lucasta, Going Beyond the Seas
I
Away from thee;
Or that when I am gone
You or I were alone;
Then, my Lucasta, might I crave
Pity from blustering wind, or swallowing wave.
To swell my sail,
Or pay a tear to ’suage
The foaming blue god’s rage;
For whether he will let me pass
Or no, I’m still as happy as I was.
Our faith and troth,
Like separated souls,
All time and space controls:
Above the highest sphere we meet
Unseen, unknown, and greet as Angels greet.
Our after-fate,
And are alive i’ the skies,
If thus our lips and eyes
Can speak like spirits unconfined
In Heaven, their earthly bodies left behind.