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. |
| 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. | 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 |  |
CCXLV
[Lyke as the wynde with raginge blaste]
Lyke as the wynde with raginge blaste
Dothe cawse eche tree to bowe and bende,
Even so do I spende my tyme in wast,
My lyff consumynge vnto an ende.
Dothe cawse eche tree to bowe and bende,
Even so do I spende my tyme in wast,
My lyff consumynge vnto an ende.
Ffor as the flame by force dothe quenche the fier
And runnynge streames consume the rayne,
Even so do I my self desyer
To augment my greff and deadly payne.
And runnynge streames consume the rayne,
Even so do I my self desyer
To augment my greff and deadly payne.
Whear as I fynde that hot is hot,
And colde is colde by course of kynde,
So shall I knet an endeles knott;
Suche fructe in love, alas, I fynde.
And colde is colde by course of kynde,
So shall I knet an endeles knott;
Suche fructe in love, alas, I fynde.
243
When I forsaw those Christall streames
Whose bewtie dothe cawse my mortall wounde
I lyttyll thought within those beames
So swete a venim for to have founde.
Whose bewtie dothe cawse my mortall wounde
I lyttyll thought within those beames
So swete a venim for to have founde.
I fele and se my owne decaye
As on that bearethe flame in his brest
Forgetfull thought to put away
The thynge that breadethe my vnrest.
As on that bearethe flame in his brest
Forgetfull thought to put away
The thynge that breadethe my vnrest.
Lyke as the flye dothe seke the flame
And afterwarde playethe in the fyer,
Who fyndethe her woe and sekethe her game
Whose greffe dothe growe of her owne desyer:
And afterwarde playethe in the fyer,
Who fyndethe her woe and sekethe her game
Whose greffe dothe growe of her owne desyer:
Lyke as the spider dothe drawe her lyne,
As labor lost so is my sute,
The gayne is hers, the lose is myne,
Of euell sowne seade suche is the frute.
As labor lost so is my sute,
The gayne is hers, the lose is myne,
Of euell sowne seade suche is the frute.
| Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | |