by Anonymous / Unidentified Author
I love, alas, alas, yet am not loved
Language: English
I love, alas, alas, yet am not loved, For cruel she to pity is not moved. My constant love with scorn she ill rewardeth, Only my sighs a little she regardeth, Yet more and more the quenchless fire increaseth, Which to my greater torment never creaseth. As matchless beauty thee a Phoenix proves Fair Leonilla, so thy sour-sweet loves. For when young Acon's eye thy proud heart tames, Thou diest in him, and livest in my flames. Happy, O happy he, who not affecting The endless toils attending worldly cares, With mind reposed, all discontents rejecting, In silent peace his way to heaven prepares; In silent peace his way to heaven prepares; Deeming his life a Scene, the world a Stage, Whereon man acts his weary Pilgrimage.
Authorship:
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by John Wilbye (1574 - 1638), "I love, alas, alas, yet am not loved", published 1609 [ vocal quartet], madrigal [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2004-12-08
Line count: 17
Word count: 127