SONNET. TO GENERAL GORING, AFTER THE PACIFICATION AT BERWICK by RICHARD LOVELACE

NOW the peace is made at the foe's rate,
Whilst men of arms to kettles their old helms translate,
And drink in casks of honourable plate:
In ev'ry hand a cup be found,
That from all hearts a health may sound
To Goring! to Goring! see't go round.

He whose glories shine so brave and high,
That captive they in triumph lead each ear and eye,
Claiming uncombated the victory,
And from the earth to heav'n rebound,
Fix'd there eternal as this round,
To Goring! to Goring! see him crown'd.

To his lovely bride in love with scars,
Whose eyes wound deep in peace, as doth his sword in wars;
They shortly must depose the Queen of Stars:
Her cheeks the morning blushes give,
And the benighted world reprieve:
To Lettice! to Lettice! let her live.

Give me scorching heat, thy heat, dry sun,
That to this pair I may drink off an ocean,
Yet leave my grateful thirst unquench'd, undone;
Or a full bowl of heav'nly wine,
In which dissolved stars should shine:
To the couple! to the couple! th' are divine.

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