Lady, your words do spite me

Lady, your words do spite me,
Yet your sweet lips, so soft, kiss and delight me,
Your deeds my heart surcharg'd with overjoying,
Your taunts my life destroying.
Since both have force to spill me,
let kisses sweet, Sweet, kill me.
Knights fight with swords and lances,
Fight you with smiling glances,
So, like swans of Leander,
My ghost from hence shall wander,
singing and dying.

poem by John Wilbye
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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