Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | ||
CXII
[Alas, fortune, what alith the]
Alas, fortune, what alith the
Thus euermore to turment me?
Although that I onworthy be
Thow wylt not chaunge.
Thus euermore to turment me?
Although that I onworthy be
Thow wylt not chaunge.
Faynest when I wold obteyne,
Then thow hast me still in disdayne,
Wylt thow thus styll increase my payne,
And wylt not chaunge?
Then thow hast me still in disdayne,
Wylt thow thus styll increase my payne,
And wylt not chaunge?
Alas! doth this not the suffice?
What prouf yet canste thow more devyse
Then styll to turment me in this wise
And yet not chaunge?
What prouf yet canste thow more devyse
Then styll to turment me in this wise
And yet not chaunge?
What shuld I more to thee now saye?
Sum hoppe in me doth rest alwaye,
Yet bound to thee I doo obey;
When wylt thou chaunge?
Sum hoppe in me doth rest alwaye,
Yet bound to thee I doo obey;
When wylt thou chaunge?
129
Seyng there ys noo remedy,
I wyll the suffer paciently,
Euer in trust at last, perdy,
That thow wylt chaunge.
I wyll the suffer paciently,
Euer in trust at last, perdy,
That thow wylt chaunge.
Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | ||