Who is Richard Lovelace

Richard Lovelace (pronounced /lʌvlɪs/, homophone of "loveless") (9 December 1617 – 1657) was an English poet in the seventeenth century. He was a cavalier poet who fought on behalf of the king during the Civil War. His best known works are "To Althea, from Prison", and "To Lucasta, Going to the Warres".

BiographyEarly life and family Richard Lovelace was born on 9 December 1617. His exact birthplace is unknown, and may have been Woolwich, Kent, or Holland. He was the oldest son of Sir William Lovelace and Anne Barne Lovelace. He had four brothers and three sisters. His father was from a distinguished military and legal family; the Lovelace family owned a considerable amount of property in Kent.

His father, Sir William Lovelace, knt., ...
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Top 10 most used topics by Richard Lovelace

I Love You 67 Love 67 Sun 51 Fire 39 Fate 38 Light 37 Bright 37 World 37 Earth 36 Breath 35


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  • Davyellison: justifying faith must necessarily be repentant faith…where justification is preached without an equal stress on sanctification, the good news is always perceived as “too good to be true.” ~ richard lovelace
  • Logcollegepress: all that is weighty in history sinks to the bottom of the river where it cannot be seen, while straw and stubble rise to the top. — francis bacon, quoted by cotton mather, quoted by richard lovelace in dynamics of spiritual life, p. 233
  • Dannyslavich: “in folk religion the posture of the christian toward fallen angels is defensive; in scripture the church is on the offensive, and the blows it receives from satan come from a retreating enemy.” (richard lovelace)
  • Davyellison: it takes time, and the penetration of truth, to make a mature saint ~ richard lovelace
  • Davyellison: richard lovelace in “dynamics of spiritual life”
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ilara: This man is not so intresting

Poem of the day

Elizabeth Stoddard Poem
The Wolf-Tamer
 by Elizabeth Stoddard

Through the gorge of snow we go,
Tracking, tramping soft and slow,
With our paws and sheathed claws,
So we swing along the snow,
Crowding, crouching to your pipes-
Shining serpents! Well you know,
When your lips shall cease to blow
Airs that lure us through the snow,
...

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