Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt :: :: University of Virginia Library

Bicause I have the still kept fro lyes and blame
And to my power alwaies have I the honoured,
Vnkynd tong right ill hast thou me rendred
For suche deserft to do me wrek and shame.
In nede of succour moost when that I ame
To aske reward, then standest thou like oon aferd
Alway moost cold, and if thou speke a word,
It is as in dreme vnperfaict and lame.
And ye salt teres again my will eche nyght
That are with me when fayn I would be alone,
Then are ye gone when I should make my mone;
And you so reddy sighes to make me shright,
Then are ye slake when that ye should owtestert,
And onely my loke declareth my hert.