Lady, When I Behold The Roses Sprouting Poem by John Wilbye

Lady, When I Behold The Roses Sprouting



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.
For, viewing both alike, hardly my mind supposes
Whether the roses be your lips or your lips the roses.

Thursday, May 31, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: lips
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John Wilbye

John Wilbye

Brome, Suffolk
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