Thus saith my Cloris bright

J. Wilbye

Thus saith my Cloris bright

When we of Love sit down and talk together

Beware of Love, Love is a walking sprite,

And Love is this and that,

And O I wot not what,

And comes and goes again I wot not whither.

No, no, these are but bugs to breed amazing

For in her eyes I saw his torchlight blazing.