Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt Edited by Kenneth Muir and Patricia Thomson |
21 |
13 | I. |
II. |
4 | III. |
IV. |
2 | V. |
CLXXVIII. |
CLXXIX. |
1 | CLXXX. |
CLXXXI. |
CLXXXII. |
CLXXXIII. |
CLXXXIV. |
CLXXXV. |
CLXXXVI. |
CLXXXVII. |
CLXXXVIII. |
CLXXXIX. |
CXC. |
CXCI. |
CXCII. |
CXCIII. |
CXCIV. |
CXCV. |
CXCVI. |
CXCVII. |
CXCVIII. |
CXCIX. |
CC. |
CCI. |
CCII. |
CCIII. |
CCIV. |
CCV. |
CCVI. |
CCVII. |
CCVIII. |
1 | CCIX. |
CCX. |
CCXI. |
CCXII. |
CCXIII. |
CCXIV. |
CCXV. |
CCXVI. |
CCXVII. |
CCXVIII. |
CCXIX. |
CCXX. |
CCXXI. |
CCXXII. |
CCXXIII. |
CCXXIV. |
CCXXV. |
CCXXVI. |
CCXXVII. |
CCXXVIII. |
CCXXIX. |
CCXXX. |
CCXXXI. |
CCXXXII. |
CCXXXIII. |
VI. |
2 | VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | ||
CXXII
[Complaynyng, alas, without redres]
Complaynyng, alas, without redres,
Thus wofully do I my Lyfe Lede,
My harte Lamentyng in heuynes,
Through whose mekenes I am nere dede.
Thus wofully do I my Lyfe Lede,
My harte Lamentyng in heuynes,
Through whose mekenes I am nere dede.
This I induer alwayes in payne,
Dewoyd of pyty as in this Case,
Yet my pore Harte cannot refrayne;
Wherfore, Alas, I Dy, Alas!
Dewoyd of pyty as in this Case,
Yet my pore Harte cannot refrayne;
Wherfore, Alas, I Dy, Alas!
Soo vnkynd, alas, saw I never noone,
So hard hartid, so mych without pyty
As she to whome I make my mone;
Wherefore, alas, I Dy, I Dy.
So hard hartid, so mych without pyty
As she to whome I make my mone;
Wherefore, alas, I Dy, I Dy.
Where I Love best, I am refused;
Where I am Louyd, I doo not passe;
Where I wold faynest, I am dysdayned;
Wherefore I Dy, alas, alas!
Where I am Louyd, I doo not passe;
Where I wold faynest, I am dysdayned;
Wherefore I Dy, alas, alas!
Comforthles, complaynyng, thus I remayne;
Merceles, remaynyng without remedy;
Cruelnes incressyng through fals dysdayne,
Pytyles remaynyng, alas, I Dy, I Dy.
Merceles, remaynyng without remedy;
136
Pytyles remaynyng, alas, I Dy, I Dy.
But from hensforth I hold it best
Them for to loue that loueth me;
And then my hart shall haue sum rest,
Where now for payne I Dy, I Dy.
Them for to loue that loueth me;
And then my hart shall haue sum rest,
Where now for payne I Dy, I Dy.
Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | ||