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.
Ah! Cruel Amarillis
Ah! cruel Amarillis, since thou tak’st delight
To hear the accents of a doleful ditty,
To triumph still without remorse or pity;
I loathe this life,death must my sorrow right;
And lest vain hope my miseries renew,
‘Reave me of breath,
Ah! cruel Amarillis, adieu.