Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt Edited by Kenneth Muir and Patricia Thomson |
21 |
13 | I. |
II. |
4 | III. |
IV. |
CIX. |
CX. |
CXI. |
CXII. |
CXIII. |
CXIV. |
CXV. |
CXVI. |
CXVII. |
CXVIII. |
CXIX. |
CXX. |
CXXI. |
CXXII. |
CXXIII. |
CXXIV. |
CXXV. |
CXXVI. |
CXXVII. |
CXXVIII. |
CXXIX. |
CXXX. |
CXXXI. |
CXXXII. |
CXXXIII. |
CXXXIV. |
CXXXV. |
CXXXVI. |
CXXXVII. |
CXXXVIII. |
CXXXIX. |
CXL. |
CXLI. |
CXLII. |
CXLIII. |
CXLIV. |
CXLV. |
CXLVI. |
CXLVII. |
CXLVIII. |
CXLIX. |
CL. |
CLI. |
CLII. |
CLIII. |
CLIV. |
CLV. |
CLVI. |
CLVII. |
CLVIII. |
CLIX. |
CLX. |
CLXI. |
CLXII. |
CLXIII. |
CLXIV. |
CLXV. |
CLXVI. |
CLXVII. |
CLXVIII. |
CLXIX. |
CLXX. |
CLXXI. |
CLXXII. |
CLXXIII. |
CLXXIV. |
CLXXV. |
CLXXVI. |
CLXXVII. |
2 | V. |
VI. |
2 | VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | ||
CLXXXIII
[What menythe thys when I lye alone?]
What menythe thys when I lye alone?
I tosse, I turne, I syghe, I grone,
My bedd me semys as hard as stone:
What menys thys?
I tosse, I turne, I syghe, I grone,
My bedd me semys as hard as stone:
What menys thys?
194
I syghe, I playne contynually;
The clothes that on my bedd do ly
Always methynk they lye awry:
What menys thys?
The clothes that on my bedd do ly
Always methynk they lye awry:
What menys thys?
In slumbers oft for fere I quake;
Ffor hete and cold I burne and shake;
Ffor lake of slepe my hede dothe ake;
What menys thys?
Ffor hete and cold I burne and shake;
Ffor lake of slepe my hede dothe ake;
What menys thys?
A mornynges then when I do rysse
I torne vnto my wontyd gysse;
All day after muse and devysse:
What menys thys?
I torne vnto my wontyd gysse;
All day after muse and devysse:
What menys thys?
And yff perchanse by me there passe
She vnto whome I sue for grace,
The cold blood forsakythe my face:
What menythe thys?
She vnto whome I sue for grace,
The cold blood forsakythe my face:
What menythe thys?
But yff I sytte nere her by,
With lowd voyce my hart dothe cry,
And yet my mowthe ys dome and dry:
What menys thys?
With lowd voyce my hart dothe cry,
And yet my mowthe ys dome and dry:
What menys thys?
To aske ffor helpe no hart I have
My tong dothe fayle what I shuld crave,
Yet inwardly I Rage and Rave:
What menys thys?
My tong dothe fayle what I shuld crave,
Yet inwardly I Rage and Rave:
What menys thys?
Thus have I passyd many a yere,
And many a day, tho nowght Apere;
But most of that that most I fere:
What menys thys?
And many a day, tho nowght Apere;
But most of that that most I fere:
What menys thys?
Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | ||