Come when I cal, or tarrie til I come,
if you bee deafe I must prove dumb.

Stay a while my heavn’ly joy, I come with wings of love,
when envious eyes time shal remove.

If thy desire ever...Read more

Come when I cal, or tarrie til I come,
if you bee deafe I must prove dumb.

Stay a while my heavn’ly joy, I come with wings of love,
when envious eyes time shal remove.

If thy desire ever knew the griefe of delay,
no danger could stand in thy way.

O die not, ad this sorrow to my griefe
that languish here, wanting relief.

What need wee languish? can love quickly flie:
feare ever hurts more than jealousie.

Then securely envie scorning,
let us end with joy our mourning,
jealousie still defie,
and love till we die.

Х Close