Author John Wilbye I love, 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 ceaseth. Tags love poem love poems love poems for her love poetry poems about love romantic poems Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments