Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt Edited by Kenneth Muir and Patricia Thomson |
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 | Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt |  |
CXXII
[Complaynyng, alas, without redres]
Complaynyng, alas, without redres,
Thus wofully do I my Lyfe Lede,
My harte Lamentyng in heuynes,
Through whose mekenes I am nere dede.
Thus wofully do I my Lyfe Lede,
My harte Lamentyng in heuynes,
Through whose mekenes I am nere dede.
This I induer alwayes in payne,
Dewoyd of pyty as in this Case,
Yet my pore Harte cannot refrayne;
Wherfore, Alas, I Dy, Alas!
Dewoyd of pyty as in this Case,
Yet my pore Harte cannot refrayne;
Wherfore, Alas, I Dy, Alas!
Soo vnkynd, alas, saw I never noone,
So hard hartid, so mych without pyty
As she to whome I make my mone;
Wherefore, alas, I Dy, I Dy.
So hard hartid, so mych without pyty
As she to whome I make my mone;
Wherefore, alas, I Dy, I Dy.
Where I Love best, I am refused;
Where I am Louyd, I doo not passe;
Where I wold faynest, I am dysdayned;
Wherefore I Dy, alas, alas!
Where I am Louyd, I doo not passe;
Where I wold faynest, I am dysdayned;
Wherefore I Dy, alas, alas!
Comforthles, complaynyng, thus I remayne;
Merceles, remaynyng without remedy;
Cruelnes incressyng through fals dysdayne,
Pytyles remaynyng, alas, I Dy, I Dy.
Merceles, remaynyng without remedy;
136
Pytyles remaynyng, alas, I Dy, I Dy.
But from hensforth I hold it best
Them for to loue that loueth me;
And then my hart shall haue sum rest,
Where now for payne I Dy, I Dy.
Them for to loue that loueth me;
And then my hart shall haue sum rest,
Where now for payne I Dy, I Dy.
| Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | |