Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt Edited by Kenneth Muir and Patricia Thomson |
21 | ![]() |
13 | ![]() | I. |
![]() | II. |
4 | ![]() | III. |
![]() | IV. |
2 | ![]() | V. |
![]() | VI. |
2 | ![]() | VII. |
CCXLI. |
CCXLII. |
2 | CCXLIII. |
CCXLIV. | CCXLIV
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CCXLV. |
CCXLVI. |
![]() | VIII. |
![]() | IX. |
![]() | Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | ![]() |
CCXLIV
[Syghes ar my foode, drynke are my teares]
Syghes ar my foode, drynke are my teares;Clynkinge of fetters suche musycke wolde crave;
Stynke and close ayer away my lyf wears;
Innocencie is all the hope I have.
Rayne, wynde, or wether I iudge by myne eares.
Mallice assaulteth that rightiousnes should have.
Sure I am, Brian, this wounde shall heale agayne,
But yet, alas, the scarre shall styll remayne.
![]() | Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | ![]() |