Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt Edited by Kenneth Muir and Patricia Thomson |
| 21 |  |
| 13 | | I. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| 1 | V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| 1 | XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| 1 | XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
| XLVIII. |
| XLIX. |
| L. |
| LI. |
| LII. |
| 1 | LIII. |
| 1 | LIV. |
| LV. |
| LVI. |
| LVII. |
| LVIII. |
| LIX. |
| LX. |
| LXI. |
| 1 | LXII. |
| LXIII. |
| LXIV. |
| LXV. |
| LXVI. |
| LXVII. |
| LXVIII. |
| LXIX. |
| LXX. |
| LXXI. |
| LXXII. |
| 2 | LXXIII. |
| LXXIV. |
| LXXV. |
| LXXVI. |
| LXXVII. |
| LXXVIII. |
| LXXIX. |
| LXXX. |
| LXXXI. |
| 1 | LXXXII. |
| LXXXIII. |
| LXXXIV. |
| LXXXV. |
| LXXXVI. |
| LXXXVII. |
| LXXXVIII. |
| LXXXIX. |
| XC. |
| XCI. |
| XCII. |
| XCIII. |
| XCIV. |
| XCV. |
| XCVI. |
| XCVII. |
| 3 | XCVIII. |
| XCIX. |
| C. |
| 1 | CI. |
| CII. |
| CIII. |
| CIV. |
| II. |
| CV. |
| CVI. |
| CVII. |
| 4 | | III. |
| 4 | | CVIII. |
| 1 |
| 1 |
| 2 |
| 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. |
| CLXXII. |
| CLXXIII. |
| CLXXIV. |
| CLXXV. |
| CLXXVI. |
| CLXXVII. |
| 2 | | V. |
| CLXXVIII. |
| CLXXIX. |
| 1 | CLXXX. |
| CLXXXI. |
| CLXXXII. |
| CLXXXIII. |
| CLXXXIV. |
| CLXXXV. |
| CLXXXVI. |
| CLXXXVII. |
| CLXXXVIII. |
| CLXXXIX. |
| CXC. |
| CXCI. |
| CXCII. |
| CXCIII. |
| CXCIV. |
| CXCV. |
| CXCVI. |
| CXCVII. |
| CXCVIII. |
| CXCIX. |
| CC. |
| CCI. |
| CCII. |
| CCIII. |
| CCIV. |
| CCV. |
| CCVI. |
| CCVII. |
| CCVIII. |
| 1 | CCIX. |
| CCX. | CCX
|
| CCXI. |
| CCXII. |
| CCXIII. |
| CCXIV. |
| CCXV. |
| CCXVI. |
| CCXVII. |
| CCXVIII. |
| CCXIX. |
| CCXX. |
| CCXXI. |
| CCXXII. |
| CCXXIII. |
| CCXXIV. |
| CCXXV. |
| CCXXVI. |
| CCXXVII. |
| CCXXVIII. |
| CCXXIX. |
| CCXXX. |
| CCXXXI. |
| CCXXXII. |
| CCXXXIII. |
| VI. |
| CCXXXIV. |
| CCXXXV. |
| CCXXXVI. |
| CCXXXVII. |
| CCXXXVIII. |
| CCXXXIX. |
| CCXL. |
| 2 | | VII. |
| CCXLI. |
| CCXLII. |
| 2 | CCXLIII. |
| CCXLIV. |
| CCXLV. |
| CCXLVI. |
| VIII. |
| CCXLVII. |
| CCXLVIII. |
| CCXLIX. |
| CCL. |
| CCLI. |
| CCLII. |
| CCLIII. |
| CCLIV. |
| CCLV. |
| CCLVI. |
| CCLVII. |
| CCLVIII. |
| CCLIX. |
| CCLX. |
| CCLXI. |
| IX. |
| CCLXII. |
| CCLXIII. |
| CCLXIV. |
| CCLXV. |
| CCLXVI. |
| CCLXVII. |
| CCLXVIII. |
 | Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt |  |
CCX
[Me list no more to sing]
Me list no more to sing
Of love nor of suche thing,
Howe sore that yt me wring;
For what I song or spake
Men dede my songis mistake.
Of love nor of suche thing,
216
For what I song or spake
Men dede my songis mistake.
My songes ware to defuse,
Theye made folke to muse;
Therefore, me to excuse,
Theye shall be song more plaine,
Nother of joye nor payne.
Theye made folke to muse;
Therefore, me to excuse,
Theye shall be song more plaine,
Nother of joye nor payne.
What vailith then to skippe
At fructe over the lippe?
For frute withouten taste
Dothe noght but rott and waste.
At fructe over the lippe?
For frute withouten taste
Dothe noght but rott and waste.
What vailith vndre kaye
To kepe treasure alwaye.
That never shall se daye?
Yf yt be not vsid
Yt ys but abusid.
To kepe treasure alwaye.
That never shall se daye?
Yf yt be not vsid
Yt ys but abusid.
What vayleth the flowre
To stond still and wither?
Yf no man yt savour
Yt servis onlye for sight
And fadith towardes night.
To stond still and wither?
Yf no man yt savour
Yt servis onlye for sight
And fadith towardes night.
Therefore fere not t'assaye
To gadre ye that maye
The flower that this daye
Is fresher than the next:
Marke well, I saye, this text.
To gadre ye that maye
The flower that this daye
Is fresher than the next:
Marke well, I saye, this text.
Let not the frute be lost
That is desired moste;
Delight shall quite the coste.
Yf hit be tane in tyme,
Small labour is to clyme.
That is desired moste;
Delight shall quite the coste.
Yf hit be tane in tyme,
Small labour is to clyme.
And as for siche treasure
That makithe the the Richer,
And no dele the poorer,
When it is gyven or lente
Me thinckes yt ware well spente.
That makithe the the Richer,
217
When it is gyven or lente
Me thinckes yt ware well spente.
Yf this be undre miste,
And not well playnlye wyste,
Vndrestonde me who lyste;
For I reke not a bene,
I wott what I doo meane.
And not well playnlye wyste,
Vndrestonde me who lyste;
For I reke not a bene,
I wott what I doo meane.
| Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | |