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 | ||
CCLXVII
[I may by no meanes surmyse]
I may by no meanes surmyse
My fantasy to resyst,
But after the old gyse
To call on had I wyst
And thought it to suffyce
That agayne I shall haue none.
Yet can I not deuyse
To get agayne myne owne.
My fantasy to resyst,
But after the old gyse
To call on had I wyst
And thought it to suffyce
That agayne I shall haue none.
Yet can I not deuyse
To get agayne myne owne.
It is my hart that I haue lost:
God send it me againe.
I should it haue what euer it cost,
Or else I am but slaine. [OMITTED]
God send it me againe.
I should it haue what euer it cost,
Or else I am but slaine. [OMITTED]
I study day and night
And loud I cry and cal
To be deliuered quyte
From her that I am thral.
And yet agaynst al right
Of force I must stil mone,
For it doth passe my might
To get agayne myne owne.
And loud I cry and cal
To be deliuered quyte
From her that I am thral.
And yet agaynst al right
Of force I must stil mone,
For it doth passe my might
To get agayne myne owne.
259
In tormentes I am torne
That no rest find I can,
None so vnhappye borne
Sence that the world began;
I aske but such corne
And suche sede that was sowne;
And yet though I had sworne,
I cannot get my owne.
That no rest find I can,
None so vnhappye borne
Sence that the world began;
I aske but such corne
And suche sede that was sowne;
And yet though I had sworne,
I cannot get my owne.
But seyng that I cannot
Attayne my true desyre
Nor by no meanes may not
Crepe out of the fyre, [OMITTED]
Geue ought of your owne
By reason that you should not
Let me to haue myne owne.
Attayne my true desyre
Nor by no meanes may not
Crepe out of the fyre, [OMITTED]
Geue ought of your owne
By reason that you should not
Let me to haue myne owne.
Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | ||