Fly Not So Swift, My Dear - Poem by John Wilbye
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,
Frisk it apace to view thy beauty's glancing.
See how they coast the downs.
Fain wouldst thou turn and yield them their delight,
But that thou fear'st lest I should steal a sight.
Comments about Fly Not So Swift, My Dear by John Wilbye
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You