Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt Edited by Kenneth Muir and Patricia Thomson |
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| II. |
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| VIII. |
| CCXLVII. |
| CCXLVIII. |
| CCXLIX. |
| CCL. |
| CCLI. |
| CCLII. |
| CCLIII. |
| CCLIV. |
| CCLV. |
| CCLVI. |
| CCLVII. |
| CCLVIII. |
| CCLIX. |
| CCLX. |
| CCLXI. |
| IX. |
 | Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt |  |
LVIII
[To wisshe and want and not obtain]
To wisshe and want and not obtain,
To seke and sew esse of my pain,
Syns all that ever I do is vain,
What may it availl me?
To seke and sew esse of my pain,
Syns all that ever I do is vain,
What may it availl me?
All tho I stryve boeth dey and howre,
Against the streme with all my powre,
If fortune list yet for to lowre,
What may it availl me?
Against the streme with all my powre,
If fortune list yet for to lowre,
What may it availl me?
If willingly I suffre woo,
If from the fyre me list not goo,
If then I burne to plaine me so,
What may it availl me?
If from the fyre me list not goo,
If then I burne to plaine me so,
What may it availl me?
And if the harme that I suffre
Be runne to farre owte of mesur,
To seke for helpe any further
What may it availl me?
Be runne to farre owte of mesur,
To seke for helpe any further
What may it availl me?
44
What tho eche hert that hereth me plain
Pitieth and plaineth for my payn,
If I no les in greif remain
What may it availl me?
Pitieth and plaineth for my payn,
If I no les in greif remain
What may it availl me?
Ye tho the want of my relief
Displease the causer of my greif,
Syns I remain still in myschiefe,
What may it availl me?
Displease the causer of my greif,
Syns I remain still in myschiefe,
What may it availl me?
Such cruell chaunce doeth so me threte,
Continuelly inward to frete,
Then of relesse for to trete,
What may it availl me?
Continuelly inward to frete,
Then of relesse for to trete,
What may it availl me?
Fortune is deiff vnto my call,
My torment moveth her not at all,
And though she torne as doethe a ball
What may it availl me?
My torment moveth her not at all,
And though she torne as doethe a ball
What may it availl me?
For in despere there is no rede;
To want of ere speche is no spede;
To linger still alyve as dede,
What may it availl me?
To want of ere speche is no spede;
To linger still alyve as dede,
What may it availl me?
| Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | |