Poems by John Wilbye
Lady, When I Behold the Roses Sprouting
... Whether the roses be your lips, or your lips the roses ...
Oft Have I Vowd How Dearly I Did Love Thee
... Suffrest my feeble heart to pine with anguish, ...
Love Not Me For Comely Grace
... So hast thou the same reason still ...
Lady, Your Words Do Spite Me
... Your deeds my heart surcharged with over joying, ...
