Despiteful Thus Unto Myself, I Languish

John Wilbye

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;
And to some rest will quickly be conveyed,
That on no joy, while so I liv-d, hath stayed.

(C) John Wilbye
04/06/2015

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