O LOVE, how strangely sweet
Are thy weak passions,
That Love and Joy should meet
In self-same fashions!
Oh, who can tell
The cause why this should move?
But only this:
No reason ask of Love.
More verses by John Marston
- Delicious Beauty That Doth Lie
- The Scourge Of Villainy
- The Nut-Brown Ale
- If Love Be Holy, If That Mystery
- To Everlasting Oblivion
