Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt Edited by Kenneth Muir and Patricia Thomson |
| 21 |  |
| 13 | | I. |
| I. |
| II. | II
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| 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. |
| 4 | | III. |
| IV. |
| 2 | | V. |
| VI. |
| 2 | | VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
 | Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt |  |
II
[What vaileth trouth? or, by it, to take payn?]
What vaileth trouth? or, by it, to take payn?
To stryve, by stedfastnes, for to attayne,
To be iuste, and true: and fle from dowblenes:
Sythens all alike, where rueleth craftines
Rewarded is boeth fals, and plain.
Sonest he spedeth, that moost can fain;
True meanyng hert is had in disdayn.
Against deceipte and dowblenes
What vaileth trouth?
To stryve, by stedfastnes, for to attayne,
To be iuste, and true: and fle from dowblenes:
Sythens all alike, where rueleth craftines
2
Sonest he spedeth, that moost can fain;
True meanyng hert is had in disdayn.
Against deceipte and dowblenes
What vaileth trouth?
Decyved is he by crafty trayn
That meaneth no gile and doeth remayn
Within the trapp, withoute redresse,
But, for to love, lo, suche a maisteres,
Whose crueltie nothing can refrayn,
What vaileth trouth?
That meaneth no gile and doeth remayn
Within the trapp, withoute redresse,
But, for to love, lo, suche a maisteres,
Whose crueltie nothing can refrayn,
What vaileth trouth?
| Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | |