 | Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt |  |
XII
[Yf amorous faith, an hert vnfayned]
Yf amorous faith, an hert vnfayned,A swete languor, a great lovely desire,
Yf honest will kyndelled in gentill fiere,
Yf long errour in a blynde maze chayned,
Yf in my visage eche thought depaynted,
Or else in my sperklyng voyse lower or higher,
Which nowe fere, nowe shame, wofully doth tyer,
Yf a pale colour which love hath stayned,
Yf to have an othre then my selfe more dere,
Yf wailing or sighting continuelly
With sorrowful anger feding bissely,
Yf burning a farre of and fresing nere
Ar cause that by love my self I distroye,
Yours is the fault and myn the great annoye.
| Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | |