In Praise of Love
by Tobias Hume (1569-1654)
Festooned by Alyssa

Aah, fond Love, they harm thee very much
They that say thy sweet is bitter.

When thy tender, ripe fruit is such
As nothing could be sweeter.

Fairest treasure of joy and bliss,
Truest pleasure of a kiss,
I do adore thee.

I know what thou art
I serve thee with pure heart
And fall before thee, torn apart.