John Fletcher

Weep no more

WEEP no more, nor sigh, nor groan,
Sorrow calls no time that 's gone:
Violets pluck'd, the sweetest rain
Makes not fresh nor grow again.
Trim thy locks, look cheerfully;
Fate's hid ends eyes cannot see.
Joys as winged dreams fly fast,
Why should sadness longer last?
Grief is but a wound to woe;
Gentlest fair, mourn, mourn no moe.

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About the poet
John Fletcher
By the same poet
Hear, ye Ladies
Bridal Song
Aspatia's Song
Hymn to Pan
Away, Delights
Love's Emblems
God Lyaeus
Beauty Clear and Fair
Related books
John Fletcher at amazon.com

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