Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt Edited by Kenneth Muir and Patricia Thomson |
21 |
13 | I. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
1 | V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
XIX. |
1 | XX. |
XXI. |
XXII. |
XXIII. |
XXIV. |
XXV. |
XXVI. |
XXVII. |
XXVIII. |
XXIX. |
XXX. |
XXXI. |
XXXII. |
XXXIII. |
XXXIV. |
XXXV. |
XXXVI. |
XXXVII. |
XXXVIII. |
XXXIX. |
XL. |
XLI. |
1 | XLII. |
XLIII. |
XLIV. |
XLV. |
XLVI. |
XLVII. |
XLVIII. |
XLIX. |
L. |
LI. |
LII. |
1 | LIII. |
1 | LIV. |
LV. |
LVI. |
LVII. |
LVIII. |
LIX. |
LX. |
LXI. |
1 | LXII. |
LXIII. |
LXIV. |
LXV. |
LXVI. |
LXVII. |
LXVIII. |
LXIX. |
LXX. |
LXXI. |
LXXII. |
2 | LXXIII. |
LXXIV. |
LXXV. |
LXXVI. |
LXXVII. |
LXXVIII. |
LXXIX. |
LXXX. |
LXXXI. |
1 | LXXXII. |
LXXXIII. |
LXXXIV. |
LXXXV. |
LXXXVI. |
LXXXVII. |
LXXXVIII. |
LXXXIX. |
XC. |
XCI. |
XCII. |
XCIII. |
XCIV. |
XCV. |
XCVI. |
XCVII. |
3 | XCVIII. |
XCIX. |
C. |
1 | CI. |
CII. |
CIII. |
CIV. |
II. |
4 | III. |
IV. |
2 | V. |
VI. |
2 | VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | ||
CLXI
[Ffortune what ayleth the]
Ffortune what ayleth the
Thus for to banyshe me
Her company whome I loue best?
For to complayne me
Nothyng avaylethe me;
Adew, fare well thys nyghtes rest.
Thus for to banyshe me
Her company whome I loue best?
For to complayne me
Nothyng avaylethe me;
Adew, fare well thys nyghtes rest.
Her demure countenaunce,
Her homely pacience,
Hath wounded me thorough Venus darte,
That I cannot refrayne me
Nother yet abstayne me,
But nedes I must loue her with all my hart.
Her homely pacience,
Hath wounded me thorough Venus darte,
That I cannot refrayne me
Nother yet abstayne me,
But nedes I must loue her with all my hart.
Long haue I loued her,
Ofte haue I prayd her,
Yet, alas, she thorow dysdayn
Nothyng regardes me
Nor yet rewardes me
But lets me ly in mortall payn.
Ofte haue I prayd her,
Yet, alas, she thorow dysdayn
Nothyng regardes me
Nor yet rewardes me
But lets me ly in mortall payn.
Yet shall I loue her styll
With all my hart and wyl
Wher so euer I ryde or go;
My hart, my seruyce,
Afore al ladyes
Is hers al onely and no mo.
With all my hart and wyl
Wher so euer I ryde or go;
My hart, my seruyce,
Afore al ladyes
Is hers al onely and no mo.
She hath my hart and euer shall
In this terrestrial;
What can she more of me require?
Her whom I loue best,
God send her good rest,
And me hartely my whole desyre.
In this terrestrial;
What can she more of me require?
174
God send her good rest,
And me hartely my whole desyre.
Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | ||