Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt Edited by Kenneth Muir and Patricia Thomson |
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1 | V. |
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IX. |
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XXVIII. |
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XLIII. |
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XLV. |
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XLVIII. |
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1 | LIV. |
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LXIII. |
LXIV. |
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LXVIII. |
LXIX. |
LXX. |
LXXI. |
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LXXIV. |
LXXV. |
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LXXX. |
LXXXI. |
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LXXXIII. |
LXXXIV. |
LXXXV. |
LXXXVI. |
LXXXVII. |
LXXXVIII. |
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XCI. |
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XCIII. |
XCIV. |
XCV. |
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4 | III. |
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2 | V. |
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2 | VII. |
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Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | ||
CCXLVIII
[For want of will, in wo I playne]
For want of will, in wo I playne
Vnder colour of sobernesse,
Renewyng with my sute my payne,
My wanhope with your stedfastnesse.
Awake therfore of gentlenesse.
Regard at length, I you require,
The sweltyng paynes of my desire.
Vnder colour of sobernesse,
Renewyng with my sute my payne,
My wanhope with your stedfastnesse.
Awake therfore of gentlenesse.
Regard at length, I you require,
The sweltyng paynes of my desire.
Betimes who geueth willingly,
Redoubled thankes aye doth deserue.
And I that sue vnfaynedly,
In frutelesse hope (alas) do sterue.
How great my cause is for to swerue!
And yet how stedfast is my sute
Lo, here ye see: where is the frute?
Redoubled thankes aye doth deserue.
And I that sue vnfaynedly,
In frutelesse hope (alas) do sterue.
How great my cause is for to swerue!
And yet how stedfast is my sute
Lo, here ye see: where is the frute?
246
As hounde that hath his keper lost,
Seke I your presence to obtayne:
In which my hart deliteth most,
And shall delight though I be slayne.
You may release my band of payne.
Lose then the care that makes me crye
For want of helpe, or els I dye.
Seke I your presence to obtayne:
In which my hart deliteth most,
And shall delight though I be slayne.
You may release my band of payne.
Lose then the care that makes me crye
For want of helpe, or els I dye.
I dye, though not incontinent,
By processe yet consumingly
As waste of fire, which doth relent,
If you as wilfull wyll denye.
Wherfore cease of such crueltye:
And take me wholy in your grace:
Which lacketh will to change his place.
By processe yet consumingly
As waste of fire, which doth relent,
If you as wilfull wyll denye.
Wherfore cease of such crueltye:
And take me wholy in your grace:
Which lacketh will to change his place.
Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | ||