A PARADOX by RICHARD LOVELACE

'Tis true the beauteous star
To which I first did bow
Burnt quicker, brighter far
Than that which leads me now;
Which shines with more delight;
For gazing on that light
So long near lost my sight.

Through foul we follow fair,
For had the world one face,
And earth been bright as air,
We had known neither place:
Indians smell not their nest;
A Swiss or Finn tastes best
The spices of the East.

So from the glorious sun,
Who to his height hath got,
With what delight we run
To some black cave or grot!
And heav'nly Sidney you
Twice read, had rather view
Some odd romance so new.

The god that constant keeps
Unto his deities
Is poor in joys, and sleeps
Imprison'd in the skies:
This knew the wisest, who
From Juno stole, below
To love a bear or cow.

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