 | Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt |  |
CLIV
[My swet, alas, fforget me not]
My swet, alas, fforget me not,
That am your owne ffull suer posseste;
And ffor my part, as well ye woot,
I cannot swarue ffrome my behest;
Sens that my lyffe lyethe in your lott,
At this my pore and just request,
Fforget me not.
That am your owne ffull suer posseste;
And ffor my part, as well ye woot,
I cannot swarue ffrome my behest;
Sens that my lyffe lyethe in your lott,
At this my pore and just request,
Fforget me not.
Yet wott how suer that I am tryed,
My menyng clene, devoyde of blott;
Yours ys the proffe; ye haue me tryed,
And in me, swet, ye ffound no spott;
Of all my welthe and helth is the gyd,
That of my lyff doth knyt the knot,
Fforget me not.
My menyng clene, devoyde of blott;
166
And in me, swet, ye ffound no spott;
Of all my welthe and helth is the gyd,
That of my lyff doth knyt the knot,
Fforget me not.
Ffor yours I am and wilbe styll,
Although dalye ye se me not;
Sek ffor to saue, that ye may spyll,
Syns of my lyffe ye hold the shott;
Then grant me this ffor my goodwyll,
Which ys but Ryght, as god yt wot,
Fforget me not.
Although dalye ye se me not;
Sek ffor to saue, that ye may spyll,
Syns of my lyffe ye hold the shott;
Then grant me this ffor my goodwyll,
Which ys but Ryght, as god yt wot,
Fforget me not.
Consyder how I am your thrall,
To serue you bothe in cold and hott;
My ffawtes ffor thinking nought at all;
In prysone strong tho I shuld Rott,
Then in your earys let petye ffall,
And leste I peryshe, in your lott
Fforget me not.
To serue you bothe in cold and hott;
My ffawtes ffor thinking nought at all;
In prysone strong tho I shuld Rott,
Then in your earys let petye ffall,
And leste I peryshe, in your lott
Fforget me not.
| Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | |