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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=498975" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Female Glory</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=498975" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Mongst the worlds wonders, there doth yet remain<br>One greater than the rest, that's all those o're again,<br>And her own self beside: A Lady, whose soft breast<br>Is with vast honours soul and virtues life possest.<br>Fair as original light first from the chaos shot,<br>When day in virgin-beams triumph'd, and night was not,<br>And as that breath infus'd in the new-breather good,<br>When ill unknown was dumb, and bad not understood;<br>Chearful, as that aspect at this world's finishing,<br>When cherubims clapp'd wings, and th' sons of Heaven did sing;<br>Chast as th' Arabian bird, who all the ayr denyes,<br>And ev'n in flames expires, when with her selfe she lyes.<br>Oh! she's as kind as drops of new faln April showers,<br>That on each gentle breast spring fresh perfuming flowers;<br>She's constant, gen'rous, fixt; she's calm, she is the all<br>We can of vertue, honour, faith, or glory call,<br>And she is (whom I thus transmit to endless fame)<br>Mistresse oth' world and me, and LAURA is her name.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Richard+Lovelace">Richard Lovelace</a></strong></div>

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