A Silly Sylvan, Kissing Heav'n-born Fire

A silly sylvan, kissing heav'n-born fire,
Scorched his lips for his so fond desire:
I, not so fond, but gaz'd whilst such fire burned,
And all my heart straight into flames was turned.
The sylvan justly suffer'd for his kiss,
His fire was stol'n and stol'n things go amiss;
But I, alas! unjstly for to have her,
Her heav'nly fire the gods and graces gave her.

John Wilbye The copyright of the poems published here are belong to their poets. Internetpoem.com is a non-profit poetry portal. All information in here has been published only for educational and informational purposes.