Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt Edited by Kenneth Muir and Patricia Thomson |
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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 | ||