Alas What Hope Of Speeding

Alas what hope of speeding
Where hope beguiled lies bleeding?
She bade come when she spied me,
And when I came she flied me.
Thus when I was beguiled,
She at my sighing smiled.
But if you take such pleasure
Of hope and joy, my treasure,
By deceit to bereave me,
Love me, and so deceive me.

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.