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.