Tell me not (Sweet) I am unkind,

          That from the nunnery

Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind

          To war and arms I fly.

True, a new mistress now I chase,

         The first foe in the field;

And with a stronger faith embrace

         A sword, a horse, a shield.

Yet this inconstancy is such

         As you too shall adore;

I could not love thee (Dear) so much,

         Lov’d I not Honour more.

-Richard Lovelace 'To Lucasta, Going to the Wars'