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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  • Wesvanfleet: “it is only in the light of the revelation through the cross of god’s overwhelming love for his creation that we can understand his anger against the distortion or destruction of that creation.” -richard lovelace
  • Wesvanfleet: “true spirituality is not a superhuman religiosity; it is simply true humanity released from bondage to sin and renewed by the holy spirit.” -richard lovelace
  • Wesvanfleet: “the instruments through which god works in the church are human beings. if our hearts and minds are not properly transformed, we are like musicians playing untuned instruments, or engineers working with broken and ill-programmed computers.” -richard lovelace
  • Timshutes: ...”they come naturally to hate other cultural styles and other races in order to bolster their own security and discharge their suppressed anger.” ~ richard f. lovelace
  • Rynebrewer: “when men’s hearts are not full of god, they become full of the world around like a sponge full of clear water that has been squeezed empty and thrown into a mud puddle.” - richard f. lovelace
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Poem of the day

Eugene Field Poem
Sister's Cake
 by Eugene Field

I'd not complain of Sister Jane, for she was good and kind,
Combining with rare comeliness distinctive gifts of mind;
Nay, I'll admit it were most fit that, worn by social cares,
She'd crave a change from parlor life to that below the stairs,
And that, eschewing needlework and music, she should take
Herself to the substantial art of manufacturing cake.

At breakfast, then, it would befall that Sister Jane would say:
...

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