Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt Edited by Kenneth Muir and Patricia Thomson |
21 | ![]() |
13 | ![]() | I. |
![]() | II. |
4 | ![]() | III. |
4 | ![]() | CVIII. |
1 |
1 |
2 |
![]() | IV. |
2 | ![]() | V. |
![]() | VI. |
2 | ![]() | VII. |
![]() | VIII. |
![]() | IX. |
![]() | Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | ![]() |
I
[Behold, love, thy power how she dispiseth!]
Behold, love, thy power how she dispiseth!
My great payne how litle she regardeth!
The holy oth, wherof she taketh no cure
Broken she hath: and yet she bideth sure,
Right at her ease: and litle she dredeth.
Wepened thou art: and she vnarmed sitteth:
To the disdaynfull, her liff she ledeth:
To me spitefull, withoute cause, or mesure.
Behold, love!
My great payne how litle she regardeth!
The holy oth, wherof she taketh no cure
Broken she hath: and yet she bideth sure,
Right at her ease: and litle she dredeth.
Wepened thou art: and she vnarmed sitteth:
To the disdaynfull, her liff she ledeth:
To me spitefull, withoute cause, or mesure.
Behold, love!
I ame in hold: if pitie the meveth,
Goo bend thy bowe: that stony hertes breketh:
And, with some stroke, revenge the displeasure
Of thee and him, that sorrowe doeth endure,
And, as his lorde, the lowly entreath.
Behold, love!
Goo bend thy bowe: that stony hertes breketh:
And, with some stroke, revenge the displeasure
Of thee and him, that sorrowe doeth endure,
And, as his lorde, the lowly entreath.
Behold, love!
![]() | Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | ![]() |