Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt Edited by Kenneth Muir and Patricia Thomson |
21 | ![]() |
13 | ![]() | I. |
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4 | ![]() | III. |
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2 | ![]() | V. |
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2 | ![]() | VII. |
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CCLXII. |
CCLXIII. |
CCLXIV. |
CCLXV. |
CCLXVI. |
CCLXVII. |
CCLXVIII. |
![]() | Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | ![]() |
XXVI
[I fynde no peace and all my warr is done]
I fynde no peace and all my warr is done;I fere and hope I burne and freise like yse;
I fley above the wynde yet can I not arrise;
And noght I have and all the worold I seson.
21
And holdeth me not, yet can I scape no wise;
Nor letteth me lyve nor dye at my devise,
And yet of deth it gyveth me occasion.
Withoute Iyen, I se; and withoute tong I plain;
I desire to perisshe and yet I aske helthe;
I love an othre and thus I hate my self;
I fede me in sorrowe and laugh in all my pain;
Likewise displeaseth me boeth deth and lyffe;
And my delite is causer of this stryff.
![]() | Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | ![]() |