Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt Edited by Kenneth Muir and Patricia Thomson |
| 21 |  |
| 13 |  | I. |
| II. |
| 4 | | III. |
| IV. |
| CIX. |
| CX. |
| CXI. |
| CXII. |
| CXIII. |
| CXIV. |
| CXV. |
| CXVI. |
| CXVII. |
| CXVIII. |
| CXIX. |
| CXX. |
| CXXI. |
| CXXII. |
| CXXIII. |
| CXXIV. |
| CXXV. |
| CXXVI. |
| CXXVII. |
| CXXVIII. |
| CXXIX. |
| CXXX. |
| CXXXI. |
| CXXXII. |
| CXXXIII. |
| CXXXIV. |
| CXXXV. |
| CXXXVI. |
| CXXXVII. |
| CXXXVIII. |
| CXXXIX. |
| CXL. |
| CXLI. |
| CXLII. |
| CXLIII. |
| CXLIV. |
| CXLV. |
| CXLVI. |
| CXLVII. |
| CXLVIII. |
| CXLIX. |
| CL. |
| CLI. |
| CLII. |
| CLIII. |
| CLIV. |
| CLV. |
| CLVI. |
| CLVII. |
| CLVIII. |
| CLIX. |
| CLX. |
| CLXI. |
| CLXII. |
| CLXIII. |
| CLXIV. |
| CLXV. |
| CLXVI. |
| CLXVII. |
| CLXVIII. |
| CLXIX. |
| CLXX. |
| CLXXI. | CLXXI
|
| CLXXII. |
| CLXXIII. |
| CLXXIV. |
| CLXXV. |
| CLXXVI. |
| CLXXVII. |
| 2 | | V. |
| VI. |
| 2 | | VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
 | Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt |  |
CLXXI
[To my myshap alas I fynd]
To my myshap alas I fynd
That happy hap ys dangerus;
And fortune workyth but her kynd
To make the joyfull dolorus.
But all to late hyt cumes in mynd
To wayle the want that made me blynd,
So often warnyd.
That happy hap ys dangerus;
And fortune workyth but her kynd
To make the joyfull dolorus.
But all to late hyt cumes in mynd
182
So often warnyd.
Amydes my myrth and plesantnes
Such chance ys chansyd sodenly,
That in dyspere to haue redres
I fynd my chefyst remedy.
No new kynd off vnhappynes
Shuld thus haue left me comfortles,
So oftyn warnyd.
Such chance ys chansyd sodenly,
That in dyspere to haue redres
I fynd my chefyst remedy.
No new kynd off vnhappynes
Shuld thus haue left me comfortles,
So oftyn warnyd.
In better case was never none,
And yet vnwares thus am I trappt;
My chefe desyer doth cause me mone,
And to my harm my welth ys hapt:
Ther ys no man but I alone
That hath such cause to syghe and mone,
So oftyn warnyd.
And yet vnwares thus am I trappt;
My chefe desyer doth cause me mone,
And to my harm my welth ys hapt:
Ther ys no man but I alone
That hath such cause to syghe and mone,
So oftyn warnyd.
Who wold haue thowght that my request
Shuld bryng me forth such bytter frute?
But now ys hapt that I ferd lest,
And all thys harm cumes by my sute;
For when I thought me happyest,
Evyn then hapt all my chefe vnrest,
So oftyn warnyd.
Shuld bryng me forth such bytter frute?
But now ys hapt that I ferd lest,
And all thys harm cumes by my sute;
For when I thought me happyest,
Evyn then hapt all my chefe vnrest,
So oftyn warnyd.
Thus am I tawght for to beware,
And trust no more such plesant chance;
My happy hap hath bred thys care,
And browght my myrth to grete myschance.
Ther ys no man that hap wyll spare,
But when she lyst hys welth ys bare,
Thus am I warnyd.
And trust no more such plesant chance;
My happy hap hath bred thys care,
And browght my myrth to grete myschance.
183
But when she lyst hys welth ys bare,
Thus am I warnyd.
| Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | |