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. |
VIII. |
CCXLVII. |
CCXLVIII. |
CCXLIX. |
CCL. |
CCLI. |
CCLII. |
CCLIII. | CCLIII
|
CCLIV. |
CCLV. |
CCLVI. |
CCLVII. |
CCLVIII. |
CCLIX. |
CCLX. |
CCLXI. |
IX. |
Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | ||
CCLIII
[Synce loue wyll nedes that I shall loue]
Synce loue wyll nedes that I shall loue,
Of very force I must agree;
And since no chance may it remoue,
In welth, and in aduersitie,
I shall alway my self apply
To serue, and suffer paciently.
Of very force I must agree;
And since no chance may it remoue,
In welth, and in aduersitie,
I shall alway my self apply
To serue, and suffer paciently.
Though for good will I finde but hate,
And cruelty my life to wast;
And though that still a wretched state
Should pine my dayes vnto the last:
Yet I professe it willingly
To serue, and suffer paciently.
And cruelty my life to wast;
And though that still a wretched state
Should pine my dayes vnto the last:
Yet I professe it willingly
To serue, and suffer paciently.
For since my hart is bound to serue,
And I not ruler of mine owne,
What so befall, tyll that I sterue,
By proofe full well it shall be knowne:
That I shall still my selfe apply
To serue and suffer paciently.
And I not ruler of mine owne,
What so befall, tyll that I sterue,
By proofe full well it shall be knowne:
That I shall still my selfe apply
To serue and suffer paciently.
Yea though my grief finde no redresse,
But still increase before mine eyes:
Though my reward be cruelnesse,
With all the harme happe can deuise:
Yet I professe it willingly
To serue, and suffer paciently.
But still increase before mine eyes:
Though my reward be cruelnesse,
With all the harme happe can deuise:
Yet I professe it willingly
To serue, and suffer paciently.
Yea, though fortune her pleasant face,
Should shew, to set me vp a loft:
And streight, my wealth for to deface,
Should writhe away, as she doth oft:
Yet would I styll my self apply
To serue and suffer paciently.
Should shew, to set me vp a loft:
And streight, my wealth for to deface,
Should writhe away, as she doth oft:
Yet would I styll my self apply
To serue and suffer paciently.
250
There is no grief, no smart, no wo,
That yet I fele, or after shall,
That from this mynde may make me go;
And whatsoeuer me befall,
I do professe it willingly,
To serue and suffer paciently.
That yet I fele, or after shall,
That from this mynde may make me go;
And whatsoeuer me befall,
I do professe it willingly,
To serue and suffer paciently.
Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | ||