O wretched man! Why lov’st thou earthly life?
Which nought enjoys but cares and endless trouble;
What pleasure here, but breeds a world of grief?
What hour’s ease, that anguish doth not double;
No earthly joys, but have their discontents;
Then loathe that life, which causeth such laments
More verses by John Wilbye
- Of Joys And Pleasing Pains
- So Light Is Love
- Oft Have I Vow'D
- Softly, O! Dropp Mine Eyes
- Stay, Corydon, Thou Swain