Poet - Wyatt

Alas Madam For Stealing Of A Kiss

Alas! madam, for stealing of a kiss,
Have I so much your mind then offended?
Have I then done so grievously amiss,
That by no means it may be amended?
Then revenge you, and the next way is this:
Another kiss shall have my life ended.
For to my mouth the first my heart did suck,
The next shall clean out of my breast it pluck.

And Wilt Thou Leave Me Thus?

And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay, say nay, for shame,
To save thee from the blame
Of all my grief and grame;
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay, say nay!

And wilt thou leave me thus,
That hath loved thee so long
In wealth and woe among?
And is thy heart so strong
As for to leave me thus?
Say nay, say nay!

And wilt thou leave me thus,
That hath given thee my heart
Never for to depart,
Nother for pain nor smart;
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay, say nay!

And wilt thou leave me thus
And have no more pity
Of him that loveth thee?
Hélas, thy cruelty!
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay, say nay!

Avising The Bright Beams

Avising the bright beams of these fair eyes
Where he is that mine oft moisteth and washeth,
The wearied mind straight from the heart departeth
For to rest in his worldly paradise
And find the sweet bitter under this guise.
What webs he hath wrought well he perceiveth
Whereby with himself on love he plaineth
That spurreth with fire and bridleth with ice.
Thus is it in such extremity brought,
In frozen thought, now and now it standeth in flame.
Twixt misery and wealth, twixt earnest and game,
But few glad, and many diverse thought
With sore repentance of his hardiness.
Of such a root cometh fruit fruitless.

Behold, Love, Thy Power

Behold, Love, thy power how she despiseth!
My great pain how little she regardeth!
The holy oath, whereof she taketh no cure,
Broken she hath; and yet she bideth sure
Right at her ease and little she dreadeth.
Weaponed thou art, and she unarmed sitteth;
To the disdainful her life she leadeth,
To me spiteful without cause or measure,
Behold, Love.

I am in hold: if pity moveth,
Go bend thy bow, that stony hearts breaketh,
And with some stroke revenge the displeasure
Of thee and him, that sorrow doth endure,
And, as his lord, the lowly entreateth.
Behold, Love.

Blame Not My Lute

Blame not my lute, for he must sound
Of this or that as liketh me:
For lack of wit the lute is bound
To give such tunes as pleaseth me.
Then though my songs be somewhat strange
And speaks such words as touch thy change,
Blame not my lute.

My lute alas doth not offend,
Though that perforce he must agree
To sound such tunes as I intend
To sing to them that heareth me.
Then though my songs be somewhat plain
And toucheth some that use to feign,
Blame not my lute.

My lute and strings may not deny,
But as I strike they must obey:
Break not them then so wrongfully,
But wreak thyself in some wiser way.
And though the songs which I indite
Do quit thy change with rightful spite,
Blame not my lute.

Spite asketh spite, and changing change
And falsed faith must needs be known;
The fault so great, the case so strange,
Of right it must abroad be blown.
Then since that by thine own desert
My songs do tell how true thou art,
Blame not my lute.

Blame but thyself, that hast misdone
And well deserved to have blame,
Change thou thy way so evil begone,
And then my lute shall sound the same.
But if till then my fingers play
By thy desert their wonted way,
Blame not my lute.

Farewell, unknown, for though thou break
My strings in spite with great disdain,
Yet have I found out for thy sake
Strings for to string my lute again.
And if perchance this foolish rhyme
Do make thee blush at any time,
Blame not my lute.

Farewell Love And All Thy Laws Forever

Farewell love and all thy laws forever;
Thy baited hooks shall tangle me no more.
Senec and Plato call me from thy lore
To perfect wealth, my wit for to endeavour.
In blind error when I did persever,
Thy sharp repulse, that pricketh aye so sore,
Hath taught me to set in trifles no store
And scape forth, since liberty is lever.
Therefore farewell; go trouble younger hearts
And in me claim no more authority.
With idle youth go use thy property
And thereon spend thy many brittle darts,
For hitherto though I have lost all my time,
Me lusteth no lenger rotten boughs to climb.

Forget Not Yet

Forget not yet the tried intent
Of such a truth as I have meant,
My great travail so gladly spent
Forget not yet.

Forget not yet when first began
The weary life ye know since when,
The suit, the service none tell can,
Forget not yet.

Forget not yet the great essays,
The cruel wrong, the scornful ways,
The painful patience in denays,
Forget not yet.

Forget not yet, forget not this,
How long ago hath been and is
The mind that never meant amiss,
Forget not yet.

Forget not yet thine own approved,
The which so long hath thee so loved,
Whose steadfast faith yet never moved,
Forget not this.

I Abide And Abide And Better Abide

I abide and abide and better abide
(And after the old proverb) the happy day;
And ever my lady to me doth say
'Let me along and I will provide'.
I abide and abide and tarry the tide,
And with abiding speed well ye may!
Thus do I abide I wot always
Not her obtaining nor yer denied.
Aye me! this long abiding
Seemeth to me as who sayeth
A prolonging of a dying death
Or a refusing of a desired things.
Much to say 'abide' and yet not obtain.

I Find No Peace

I find no peace, and all my war is done.
I fear and hope. I burn and freeze like ice.
I fly above the wind, yet can I not arise;
And nought I have, and all the world I season.
That loseth nor locketh holdeth me in prison
And holdeth me not--yet can I scape no wise--
Nor letteth me live nor die at my device,
And yet of death it giveth me occasion.
Without eyen I see, and without tongue I plain.
I desire to perish, and yet I ask health.
I love another, and thus I hate myself.
I feed me in sorrow and laugh in all my pain;
Likewise displeaseth me both life and death,
And my delight is causer of this strife.

In Spain

Tagus, farewell! that westward with thy streams
Turns up the grains of gold already tried
With spur and sail, for I go seek the Thames
Gainward the sun that shewth her wealthy pride,
And to the town which Brutus sought by dreams,
Like bended moon doth lend her lusty side.
My king, my country, alone for whome I live,
Of mighty love the wings for this me give.

Is It Possible?

It is possible
That so high debate,
So sharp, so sore, and of such rate,
Should end so soon as was begun so late?
Is it possible?

Is it possible
So cruel intent,
So hasty heat and so soon spent,
From love to hate, and thence for to relent?
Is it possible?

Is it possible
That any may find
Within one heart so diverse kind,
To change or turn as weather and wind?
Is it possible?

Is it possible
To spy it in any eye
That turns as oft as chance in die?
The troth whereof can any try?
Is it possible?

Is it possible
For to turn so oft,
To bring that lowest that was most aloft,
And to fall highest yet to light soft:
Is it possible?

All is possible,
Whoso list believe;
Trust therefore first, and after preve:
As men wed ladies by licence and leave
All is possible.

Madam, Withouten Many Words

Madam, withouten many words
Once I am sure ye will or no ...
And if ye will, then leave your bourds
And use your wit and show it so,
And with a beck ye shall me call;
And if of one that burneth alway
Ye have any pity at all.
Answer him fair with & {.} or nay.
If it be &, {.} I shall be fain;
If it be nay, friends as before;
Ye shall another man obtain,
And I mine own and yours no more.

My Galley, Chargèd With Forgetfulness

My galley, chargèd with forgetfulness,
Thorough sharp seas in winter nights doth pass
'Tween rock and rock; and eke mine en'my, alas,
That is my lord, steereth with cruelness;
And every owre a thought in readiness,
As though that death were light in such a case.
An endless wind doth tear the sail apace
Of forced sighs and trusty fearfulness.
A rain of tears, a cloud of dark disdain,
Hath done the weared cords great hinderance;
Wreathèd with error and eke with ignorance.
The stars be hid that led me to this pain;
Drownèd is Reason that should me comfort,
And I remain despairing of the port.

My Lute Awake!

My lute awake! perform the last
Labour that thou and I shall waste,
And end that I have now begun;
For when this song is sung and past,
My lute be still, for I have done.

As to be heard where ear is none,
As lead to grave in marble stone,
My song may pierce her heart as soon;
Should we then sigh, or sing, or moan?
No, no, my lute, for I have done.

The rocks do not so cruelly
Repulse the waves continually,
As she my suit and affection;
So that I am past remedy,
Whereby my lute and I have done.

Proud of the spoil that thou hast got
Of simple hearts thorough love's shot,
By whom, unkind, thou hast them won,
Think not he hath his bow forgot
Although my lute and I have done.

Vengeance shall fall on thy disdain,
That makest but game on earnest pain;
Think not alone under the sun
Unquit to cause thy lover's plain,
Although my lute and I have done.

Perchance thee lie withered and old,
The winter nights that are so cold,
Plaining in vain under the moon;
Thy wishes then dare not be told.
Care then who list, for I have done.

And then may chance thee to repent
The time that thou has lost and spent
To cause thy lovers sigh and swoon;
Then shalt thou know beauty but lent,
And wish and want as I have done.

Now cease my lute, this is the last
Labour that thou and I shall waste,
And ended is that we begun;
Now is this song both sung and past;
My lute be still, for I have done.

My Pen, Take Pain

My pen, take pain a little space
To follow that which doth me chase,
And hath in hold my heart so sore
But when thou hast this brought to pass,
My pen, I prithee, write no more.

Remember, oft thou hast me eased,
And all my pain full well appeased,
But now I know, unknown before,
For where I trust I am deceived:
And yet, my pen, thou canst no more.

A time thou hadst as other have
To write which way my hope to crave;
That time is past: withdraw, therefore.
Since we do lose that other save,
As good leave off and write no more.

In worth to use another way,
Not as we would but as we may;
For once my loss is past restore,
And my desire is my decay,
My pen, yet write a little more.

To love in vain whoever shall
Of worldly pain it passeth all.
As in like case I find. Wherefore
To hold so fast and yet to fall?
Alas, my pen, now write no more.

Since thou hast taken pain this space
To follow that which doth me chase,
And hath in hold my heart so sore,
Now hast thou brought my mind to pass:
My pen, I prithee, write no more.

Once As Methought Fortune Me Kissed

Once as methought Fortune me kissed
And bad me as what I thought best;
And I should have it as me list,
Therewith to set my heart in rest.

I asked but my Lady's heart
To have forever more with mine own:
Then at an end were all my smart,
Then I should need no more to moan.

Yet for all the a stormy blast
Had overturned this goodly day;
And Fortune showeth herself so fair
That I content me wonderly.

My most desire my hand may reach,
My will is not always at my hand;
Me need not long for to beseech
Her that hath power me to command.

What earthly thing more can I crave?
What would I wish more at my will?
Nothing on the earth more would I have,
Save that I have to have it still.

For Fortune now hath kept her promise
In granting me my most desire:
Of my sufferance I have redress,
And I content me with my hire.

Rememberance

They flee from me, that sometime did me seek
With naked foot, stalking in my chamber.
I have seen them gentle, tame, and meek,
That now are wild, and do not remember
That sometime they put themselves in danger
To take bread at my hand; and now they range
Busily seeking with a continual change.

Thanked be fortune it hath been otherwise
Twenty times better; but once, in special,
In thin array, after a pleasant guise,
When her loose gown from her shoulders did fall,
And she me caught in her arms long and small,
Therewith all sweetly did me kiss
And softly said,"Dear heart, how like you this?'

It was no dream; I lay broad waking:
But all is turned, thorough my gentleness,
Into a strange fashion of forsaking;
And I have leave to go of her goodness,
And she also to use newfangleness.
But since that I so kindly am served,
I would fain to know what she hath deserved.

Since So Ye Please

Since so ye please to hear me plain,
And that ye do rejoice my smart,
Me list no lenger to remain
To such as be so overthwart.

But cursed be that cruel heart
Which hath procur'd a careless mind
For me and mine unfeigned smart,
And forceth me such faults to find.

More than too much I am assured
Of thine intent, whereto to trust;
A speedless proof I have endured,
And now I leave it to them that lust.

The Heart And Service

The heart and service to you proffer'd
With right good will full honestly,
Refuse it not, since it is offer'd,
But take it to you gentlely.

And though it be a small present,
Yet good, consider graciously
The thought, the mind, and the intent
Of him that loves you faithfully.

It were a thing of small effect
To work my woe thus cruelly,
For my good will to be abject:
Therefore accept it lovingly.

Pain or travel, to run or ride,
I undertake it pleasantly;
Bid ye me go, and straight I glide
At your commandement humbly.

Pain or pleasure, now may you plant
Even which it please you steadfastly;
Do which you list, I shall not want
To be your servant secretly.

And since so much I do desire
To be your own assuredly,
For all my service and my hire
Reward your servant liberally.

The Lively Sparks That Issue From Those Eyes

The lively sparks, that issue from those eyes,
Against the which there 'vaileth no defence,
Have perc'd my heart, and done it none offense,
With quaking pleasure, more than once or twice.
Was never man could any thing devise,
Sunbeams to turn with so great vehemence
To daze man's sight, as by their bright presence
Dazed am I, much like unto the guise
Of one stricken with dint of lightning,
Blind with the stroke, and erring here and there.
So call I for help, I not when, nor where,
The pain of my fall patiently bearing.
For straight after the blaze (as is no wonder)
Of deadly noise hear I the fearful thunder.

The Long Love That In My Thought Doth Harbour

The longë love that in my thought doth harbour
And in mine hert doth keep his residence,
Into my face presseth with bold pretence
And therein campeth, spreading his banner.
She that me learneth to love and suffer
And will that my trust and lustës negligence
Be rayned by reason, shame, and reverence,
With his hardiness taketh displeasure.
Wherewithall unto the hert's forest he fleeth,
Leaving his enterprise with pain and cry,
And there him hideth and not appeareth.
What may I do when my master feareth
But in the field with him to live and die?
For good is the life ending faithfully.

There Was Never Nothing More Me Pained

There was never nothing more me pained,
Nor nothing more me moved,
As when my sweetheart her complained
That ever she me loved.
Alas the while!

With piteous look she said and sighed:
"Alas, what aileth me
To love and set my wealth so light
On him that loveth not me?
Alas the while!

"Was I not well void of all pain,
When that nothing me grieved?
And now with sorrows I must complain,
And cannot be relieved.
Alas the while!

"My restful nights and joyful days
Since I began to love
Be take from me; all thing decays,
Yet can I not remove.
Alas the while!"

She wept and wrung her hands withal,
The tears fell in my neck;
She turned her face and let it fall;
Scarcely therewith could speak.
Alas the while!

Her pains tormented me so sore
That comfort had I none,
But cursed my fortune more and more
To see her sob and groan:
Alas the while!

They Flee From Me

They flee from me that sometime did me seek
With naked foot, stalking in my chamber.
I have seen them gentle, tame, and meek,
That now are wild and do not remember
That sometime they put themself in danger
To take bread at my hand; and now they range,
Busily seeking with a continual change.

Thanked be fortune it hath been otherwise
Twenty times better; but once in special,
In thin array after a pleasant guise,
When her loose gown from her shoulders did fall,
And she me caught in her arms long and small;
Therewithall sweetly did me kiss
And softly said, "dear heart, how like you this?"

It was no dream: I lay broad waking.
But all is turned thorough my gentleness
Into a strange fashion of forsaking;
And I have leave to go of her goodness,
And she also, to use newfangleness.
But since that I so kindly am served
I would fain know what she hath deserved.

Though I Cannot Your Cruelty Constrain

Though I cannot your cruelty constrain
For my good will to favor me again,
Though my true and faithful love
Have no power your heart to move,
Yet rue upon my pain.

Though I your thrall must evermore remain
And for your sake my liberty restrain,
The greatest grace that I do crave
Is that ye would vouchsafe
To rue upon my pain.

Though I have not deserved to obtain
So high reward but thus to serve in vain,
Though I shall have no redress,
Yet of right ye can no less
But rue upon my pain.

But I see well that your high disdain
Will nowise grant that I shall that attain;
Yet ye must grant at the least
This my poor and small request:
Rejoice not at my pain.

Unstable Dream

Unstable dream, according to the place,
Be steadfast once, or else at least be true.
By tasted sweetness make me not to rue
The sudden loss of thy false feignèd grace.
By good respect in such a dangerous case
Thou broughtest not her into this tossing mew
But madest my sprite live, my care to renew,
My body in tempest her succour to embrace.
The body dead, the sprite had his desire,
Painless was th'one, th'other in delight.
Why then, alas, did it not keep it right,
Returning, to leap into the fire?
And where it was at wish, it could not remain,
Such mocks of dreams they turn to deadly pain.

What Needeth These Threat'ning Words

What needeth these threnning words and wasted wind?
All this cannot make me restore my prey.
To rob your good, iwis, is not my mind,
Nor causeless your fair hand did I display.
Let love be judge or else whom next we meet
That may both hear what you and I can say:
She took from me an heart, and I a glove from her.
Let us see now if th'one be worth th'other.

What Should I Say

What should I say,
Since faith is dead,
And truth away
From you is fled?
Should I be led
With doubleness?
Nay, nay, mistress!

I promised you,
And you promised me,
To be as true
As I would be.
But since I see
Your double heart,
Farewell my part!

Though for to take
It is not my mind,
But to forsake
[One so unkind]
And as I find,
So will I trust:
Farewell, unjust!

Can ye say nay?
But you said
That I alway
Should be obeyed?
And thus betrayed
Or that I wiste--
Farewell, unkissed.

Whoso List To Hunt, I Know Where Is An Hind

Whoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind,
But as for me, hélas, I may no more.
The vain travail hath wearied me so sore,
I am of them that farthest cometh behind.
Yet may I by no means my wearied mind
Draw from the deer, but as she fleeth afore
Fainting I follow. I leave off therefore,
Sithens in a net I seek to hold the wind.
Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt,
As well as I may spend his time in vain.
And graven with diamonds in letters plain
There is written, her fair neck round about:
Noli me tangere, for Caesar's I am,
And wild for to hold, though I seem tame.

Ye Old Mule

Ye old mule that think yourself so fair,
Leave off with craft your beauty to repair,
For it is true, without any fable,
No man setteth more by riding in your saddle.
Too much travail so do your train appair.
Ye old mule
With false savour though you deceive th'air,
Whoso taste you shall well perceive your lair
Savoureth somewhat of a Kappurs stable.
Ye old mule
Ye must now serve to market and to fair,
All for the burden, for panniers a pair.
For since gray hairs been powdered in your sable,
The thing ye seek for, you must yourself enable
To purchase it by payment and by prayer,
Ye old mule.

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