Sweet honey-sucking bees, why do you still
surfeit on roses, pinks and violets,
as if the choicest nectar lay in them
wherewith you store your curious cabinets?
Ah, make your flight to Melisuavia's lips.
There may you revel in ambrosian cheer,
where smiling roses and sweet lilies sit,
Keeping their springtide graces all the year.
[Part 2:
Yet, sweet, take heed, all sweets are hard to get:
Sting not her soft lips, O, beware of that,
for if one flaming dart come from her eye,
was never dart so sharp, ah, then you die.
]
(C) John Wilbye
03/25/2017
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