John Wilbye Poems

O fools! can you not see a traffic nearer,
In my sweet lady's face, where nature showeth
Whatever treasure eye sees or heart knoweth,
Rubies and diamonds dainty,
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O God, the rock of my whole strength,
Let thy sweet mercy soothe mine anguish;
And grant me help, O Lord, at length,
Lest that I faint, despair, and languish.
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Lady, your words do spite me,
Yet your sweet lips, so soft, kiss and delight me,
Your deeds my heart surcharg'd with overjoying,
Your taunts my life destroying.
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Long have I made these hills and valleys weary,
With noise of these my shrieks and cries that fill the air;
She only, who should make me merry,
Hears not my prayer:
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O wretched man! Why lov’st thou earthly life?
Which nought enjoys but cares and endless trouble;
What pleasure here, but breeds a world of grief?
What hour’s ease, that anguish doth not double
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Of joys and pleasing pains I late went singing,
O joys with pains! O pains with joys consenting!
And little thought as then of now repenting;
But now think of my then sweet bitter stinging
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So light is love, in matchless beauty shining,
When she revisits Cypris' hallow'd bowers,
Two feeble doves, harness'd in silken twining,
Can draw her chariot 'midst the Paphian flowers
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Oft have I vow'd how dearly I did love thee,
And oft observ'd thee with all willing duty,
Sighs I have sent, still hoping to remove thee:
Millions of tears I tender'd to thy beauty,
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Softly, O! dropp mine eyes, lest you be dry,
And make my heart with grief to melt and die.
Now pour out tears apace,
Now stay, O heavy case!
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Stay, Corydon, thou swain,
Talk not so soon of dying:
What though thy heart be slain,
What though thy love be flying?
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