When Cloris heard of her Amyntas dying,
She grieved then for her unkind denying:
Oft sighing sore, and with a heart unfeigned,
I die, I die, I die, she thus complained.
Whom, when Amyntas spied,
Then both for joy outcried,
I love, I love sweet Cloris’ eye,
And I Amyntas till I die.
More verses by John Wilbye
- When Shall My Wretched Life
- Where Most My Thoughts
- Ye Restless Thoughts
- Ye That Do Live In Pleasures
- Yet, Sweet, Take Heed