Ay me; can every rumour
Ay me; can every rumour
Thus start my lady's humour?
Name ye some gallant to her
Why straight forsooth I woo her.
Then burst she forth in passion:
You men love but for fashion.
Yet sure I am that no man
Ever so loved woman.
Yet, alas, Love, be wary
For women be contrary.
poem by John Wilbye
Added by Poetry Lover
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