John Wilbye

(7 March 1574 - September 1638 / Brome, Suffolk)

Lady, Your Words Do Spite Me - Poem by John Wilbye

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.
Since both have force to spill me,
let kisses sweet, Sweet, kill me.
Knights fight with swords and lances,
Fight you with smiling glances,
So, like swans of Leander,
My ghost from hence shall wander,
singing and dying.

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, May 31, 2012

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