John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
John Wilbye
Alas! What a wretched life is this!
Nay what a death! Where tyrant Love commandeth!
My flow’ring days are in their prime declining
All my proud hope quite fall’n, and life untwining
My joys each after other, in haste are flying
And leave me dying for her that scorns my crying
Oh she from hence departs, my love refraining
For whom, all heartless alas! I die complaining
Alas! What a wretched life was written by John Wilbye.