John Wilbye Poems
Love Not Me For Comely Grace
Love not me for comely grace,
For my pleasing eye or face;
Nor for any outward part,
No, nor for my constant heart:
For those may fail or turn to ill,
So thou and I shall sever.
Keep therefore a true woman's eye,
And love me still, but know not why;
So hast thou the same reason still
To doat upon me ever.
Draw On, Sweet Night
Draw on, Sweet Night, friend unto those cares
That do arise from painful melancholy.
My life so ill through want of comfort fares,
that unto thee I consecrate it wholly.
Sweet Night, draw on
My griefs when they be told to shades
and darkness find some ease from paining,
And while thou all in silence dost enfold,
I then shall have best time for my complaining.