Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt Edited by Kenneth Muir and Patricia Thomson |
| 21 |  |
| 13 |  | I. |
| II. |
| CV. |
| CVI. |
| CVII. |
| 4 | | III. |
| IV. |
| 2 | | V. |
| VI. |
| 2 | | VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
 | Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt |  |
28
XXXVIII
[There was never nothing more me payned]
There was never nothing more me payned,
Nor nothing more me moved,
As when my swete hert her complayned
That ever she me loved.
Alas the while!
Nor nothing more me moved,
As when my swete hert her complayned
That ever she me loved.
Alas the while!
With pituous loke she saide and sighed
‘Alas what aileth me
To love and set my welth so light
On hym that loveth not me?
Alas the while!
‘Alas what aileth me
To love and set my welth so light
On hym that loveth not me?
Alas the while!
‘Was I not well voyde of all pain,
When that nothing me greved?
And now with sorrous I must complain
And cannot be releved.
Alas the while!
When that nothing me greved?
And now with sorrous I must complain
And cannot be releved.
Alas the while!
‘My restfull nyghtes and Joyfull daies
Syns I began to love
Be take from me; all thing decayes
Yet can I not remove.
Alas the while!’
Syns I began to love
Be take from me; all thing decayes
Yet can I not remove.
Alas the while!’
She wept and wrong her handes withall,
The teres fell in my nekke.
She torned her face and let it fall;
Scarsely therewith could speke.
Alas the while!
The teres fell in my nekke.
She torned her face and let it fall;
Scarsely therewith could speke.
Alas the while!
Her paynes tormented me so sore
That comfort had I none,
But cursed my fortune more and more
To se her sobbe and grone.
Alas the while!
That comfort had I none,
But cursed my fortune more and more
To se her sobbe and grone.
Alas the while!
| Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | |