Yet, sweet, take heed, all sweets are hard to get;
Sting not her soft lips, Oh beware of that:
For if one flaming dart come from her eye,
Was never dart so sharp, ah, then you die!
More verses by John Wilbye
- Unkind, O, Stay Thy Flying!
- Weep, O Mine Eyes
- My Throat Is Sore
- Away, Thou Shalt Not Love Me
- Draw On, Sweet Night