Here you will find the Poem Courante Monsieur of poet Richard Lovelace
That frown, Aminta, now hath drown'd Thy bright front's pow'r, and crown'd Me that was bound. No, no, deceived cruel, no! Love's fiery darts, Till tipt with kisses, never kindle hearts. Adieu, weak beauteous tyrant, see! Thy angry flames meant me, Retort on thee: For know, it is decreed, proud fair, I ne'r must dye By any scorching, but a melting, eye.