Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt Edited by Kenneth Muir and Patricia Thomson |
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 | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| CLXXVIII. |
| CLXXIX. |
| CLXXX. |
| CLXXXI. |
| CLXXXII. |
| CLXXXIII. |
| CLXXXIV. |
| CLXXXV. |
| CLXXXVI. |
| CLXXXVII. |
| CLXXXVIII. |
| CLXXXIX. |
| CXC. |
| CXCI. |
| CXCII. | CXCII
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| CXCIII. |
| CXCIV. |
| CXCV. |
| CXCVI. |
| CXCVII. |
| CXCVIII. |
| CXCIX. |
| CC. |
| CCI. |
| CCII. |
| CCIII. |
| CCIV. |
| CCV. |
| CCVI. |
| CCVII. |
| CCVIII. |
| 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. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
 | Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt |  |
CXCII
[It was my choyse, yt was no chaunce]
It was my choyse, yt was no chaunce,
That browght my hart in others holde,
Wherby ytt hath had sufferaunce
Lenger perde then Reason wold;
Syns I ytt bownd where ytt was ffree,
Me thynkes, ywys, of Ryght yt shold
Acceptyd be.
That browght my hart in others holde,
Wherby ytt hath had sufferaunce
Lenger perde then Reason wold;
Syns I ytt bownd where ytt was ffree,
Me thynkes, ywys, of Ryght yt shold
Acceptyd be.
Acceptyd be withowte Refuse
Vnles that fortune hath the powere
All Ryght of love for to abuse
For, as they say, one happy howre
May more prevayle then Ryght or myght.
Yf fortune then lyst for to lowre,
What vaylyth Right?
Vnles that fortune hath the powere
All Ryght of love for to abuse
202
May more prevayle then Ryght or myght.
Yf fortune then lyst for to lowre,
What vaylyth Right?
What vaylyth Ryght yff thys be trew?
Then trust to chaunce and go by gesse;
Then who so lovyth may well go sew
Vncerten hope for hys redresse.
Yett some wolde say assueredly
Thou mayst appele for thy relesse
To fantasy.
Then trust to chaunce and go by gesse;
Then who so lovyth may well go sew
Vncerten hope for hys redresse.
Yett some wolde say assueredly
Thou mayst appele for thy relesse
To fantasy.
To fantasy pertaynys to chose;
All thys I knowe, for fantasy
Ffurst vnto love dyd me Induse;
But yet I knowe as stedefastly
That yff love haue no faster knott
So nyce a choyse slyppes sodenly—
Yt lastyth nott.
All thys I knowe, for fantasy
Ffurst vnto love dyd me Induse;
But yet I knowe as stedefastly
That yff love haue no faster knott
So nyce a choyse slyppes sodenly—
Yt lastyth nott.
Itt lastyth not that stondes by change;
Fansy doth change, fortune ys frayle;
Both these to plese, the ways ys strange;
Therfore me thynkes best to prevayle,
Ther ys no way that ys so Just
As trowgh to lede, tho tother fayle,
And therto trust.
Fansy doth change, fortune ys frayle;
Both these to plese, the ways ys strange;
Therfore me thynkes best to prevayle,
Ther ys no way that ys so Just
As trowgh to lede, tho tother fayle,
And therto trust.
| Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | |