Fly, Love, aloft to heav'n and look out Fortune,
Then sweetly, sweetly, sweetly her importune,
That I from my Calisto best beloved
As you and she set down be never moved.
And, Love, to Carimel see you commend me,
Fortune for his sweet sake may chance befriend me.

(C) John Wilbye
04/01/2017


Best Poems of John Wilbye

• Happy, O Happy He
• The Lady Oriana
• Fly, Love, Aloft
• I Always Beg
• Thus Saith My Cloris Bright
• O Wretched Man!
• Ong Have I Made These Hills And Valleys Weary
• I Love, Alas! Yet Am Not Loved
• Ah! Cannot Sighs Not Tears
• What Needeth All This Travail?
• Thou Art But Young, Thou Say-st
• Dear Pity, How, Ah!
• A Silly Sylvan, Kissing Heavn-born Fire
• When Shall My Wretched Life
• Alas! What A Wretched Life Is This!
• As Matchless Beauty
• Away, Thou Shalt Not Love Me
• O Fools! Can You Not See
• There Is A Jewel
• I Sung Sometimes
• Lady, When I Behold The Roses Sprouting