John Wilbye

Rating: 4.67
Rating: 4.67

John Wilbye Poems

Love not me for comely grace,
For my pleasing eye or face;
Nor for any outward part,
No, nor for my constant heart:
...

Adieu, adieu
sweet amaryllis.
For since to part your will is.
O heavy tiding
...

As matchless beauty thee a Phoenix proves,
Fair Leonilla, so thy sour-sweet loves.
For when young Acon's eye thy proud heart tames,
Thou diest in him, and livest in my flames.
...

Ah! cannot sighs not tears, nor aught else move thee
To pity me, who more than life do love thee?
O cruel fates! see, now away she’s flying,
And fly, alas! alas! and leave me dying.
...

Flora gave me fairest flowers,
None so fair in Flora's treasure:
These I plac'd on Phillis' bowers,
She was pleas'd, and she my pleasure
...

Cruel, behold my heavy ending,
See what you wrought by your disdaining.
Causeless I die, love still attending
Your hopeless pity of my complaining
...

Despiteful thus unto myself, I languish,
And in disdain, myself from joy I banish,
These secret thoughts enwrap me so in anguish,
That life, I hope. will soon from body vanish
...

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;
...

Fly not so swift, my dear, behold me dying,
If not a smiling glance for all my crying,
Yet kill me with thy frowns.
The Satyrs o'er the lawns full nimbly dancing
...

Hard destinies are love and beauty parted,
Fair Daphne so disdainful!
Cupid, thy shafts are too unjustly darted;
Fond love, thy wounds are painful
...

Sweet honey-sucking bees, why do you still
surfeit on roses, pinks and violets,
as if the choicest nectar lay in them
wherewith you store your curious cabinets?
...

As fair as morn, as fresh as May,
a pretty grace in saying nay,
Smil'st thou sweetheart?
then sing and say, Ta na na no,
...

Lady, when I behold the roses sprouting,
Which clad in damask mantles deck the arbours,
And then behold your lips, where sweet Love harbours,
My eyes present me with a double doubting.
...

Fly, Love, aloft to heav'n and look out Fortune,
Then sweetly, sweetly, sweetly her importune,
That I from my Calisto best beloved
As you and she set down be never moved.
...

Alas what hope of speeding
Where hope beguiled lies bleeding?
She bade come when she spied me,
And when I came she flied me.
...

Happy, O happy he, who not affecting
The endless toils attending worldly cares,
With mind repos'd, all discontents rejecting,
In silent peace his way to heav'n prepares
...

Thus saith my Cloris bright,
when we of Love sit downe and talke together,
Beware of Love, deere, Love is a walking sprite,
And Love is this and that,
...

My throat is sore, my voice is hoarse with skriking,
My rests are sighs, deep from the heart’s root fetched;
My song runs all on sharps, and with oft striking
Time on my breast, I shrink with hands outstretched
...

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.
...

Away, thou shalt not love me.
So shall my love seem greater
And I shall love the better.
Shall it be so? what say you?
...

John Wilbye Biography

John Wilbye, was an English madrigal composer. Life The son of a tanner, he was born at Brome, Suffolk, near Diss, and received the patronage of the Cornwallis family. It is thought that he accompanied Elizabeth Cornwallis to Hengrave Hall near Bury St. Edmunds circa 1594 when she married Sir Thomas Kytson the Younger. A set of madrigals by him appeared in 1598 and a second in 1608, the two sets containing sixty-four pieces. In 1600, he was chosen to proofread John Dowland's Second Booke of Songs. In 1628, on the death of Elizabeth Cornwallis, Wilbye went to live with her daughter Mary Darcy, Countess Rivers in Colchester, where he died. He is buried in the graveyard of Holy Trinity Church, in Colchester town centre. (The building is currently the CO1 cafe and young Christian centre.) Wilbye is probably the most famous of all the English madrigalists; his pieces have long been favourites and are often included in modern collections. His madrigals include Weep, weep o mine eyes and Draw on, sweet night. He also wrote the poem, Love me not for comely grace. His style is characterized by delicate writing for the voice, acute sensitivity to the text and the use of "false relations" between the major and minor modes.)

The Best Poem Of John Wilbye

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.

John Wilbye Comments

David John 28 April 2011

one can't tell how good he is until one goes thru his plays. He (shakespeare) is too good.

0 1 Reply

John Wilbye Popularity

John Wilbye Popularity

Close
Error Success