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. | 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 | ||
LXX
[Lyke as the Swanne towardis her dethe]
Lyke as the Swanne towardis her dethe
Doeth strayn her voyse with dolefull note
Right so syng I with waste of brethe,
I dy! I dy! and you regarde yt note.
Doeth strayn her voyse with dolefull note
Right so syng I with waste of brethe,
I dy! I dy! and you regarde yt note.
I shall enforce my faynting breth
That all that heris this dedlye note
Shall knowe that you dothe cause my deth:
I dy! I dy! and you regarde yt note.
That all that heris this dedlye note
Shall knowe that you dothe cause my deth:
I dy! I dy! and you regarde yt note.
53
Your vnkyndnes hath sworne my dethe,
And chaunged hathe my plesaunte note
To paynfull sighes that stoppis my brethe:
I dy! I dy! and you regarde yt note.
And chaunged hathe my plesaunte note
To paynfull sighes that stoppis my brethe:
I dy! I dy! and you regarde yt note.
Consumeth my lif, faileth my brethe;
Your fawte is forger of this note,
Melting in tearis, a cruell dethe:
I dy! I dy! and you regarde yt note.
Your fawte is forger of this note,
Melting in tearis, a cruell dethe:
I dy! I dy! and you regarde yt note.
My faith with me after my dethe
Bured shalbe, and to this note
I do bequethe my wery brethe
To cry ‘I dyede and you regardid note’.
Bured shalbe, and to this note
I do bequethe my wery brethe
To cry ‘I dyede and you regardid note’.
Collected poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt | ||