Complete Works of Sir Thomas Wyatt

by Thomas Wyatt

  For, tiger like, so swift it is in parting.

  Alas! the snow black shall it be and scalding, 5

  The sea waterless, and fish upon the mountain,

  The Thames shall back return into his fountain,

  And where he rose the sun shall take lodging,

  Ere I in this find peace or quietness;

  Or that Love, or my Lady, right-wisely, 10

  Leave to conspire against me wrongfully.

  And if I have after such bitterness,

  One drop of sweet, my mouth is out of taste,

  That all my trust and travail is but waste.

  OF LOVE, FORTUNE, AND THE LOVER’S MIND

  LOVE, Fortune, and my mind which do remember

  Eke that is now, and that, that once hath ben,

  Torment my heart so sore, that very often

  I hate and envy them beyond all measure.

  Love slayeth mine heart, while Fortune is depriver 5

  Of all my comfort; the foolish mind then

  Burneth and plaineth, as one that very seldome

  Liveth in rest. So still in displeasure

  My pleasant days they fleet and pass;

  And daily doth mine ill change to the worse: 10

  While more than half is run now of my course.

  Alas, not of steel, but of brittle glass,

  I see that from my hand falleth my trust,

  And all my thoughts are dashed into dust.

  THE LOVER PRAYETH HIS OFFERED HEART TO BE RECEIVED

  HOW oft have I, my dear and cruel foe,

  With my great pain to get some peace or truce,

  Given you my heart; but you do not use

  In so high things, to cast your mind so low.

  If any other look for it, as you trow, 5

  Their vain weak hope doth greatly them abuse:

  And that thus I disdain, that you refuse;

  It was once mine, it can no more be so.

  If you it chafe, that it in you can find,

  In this exile, no manner of comfort, 10

  Nor live alone, nor where he is called resort;

  He may wander from his natural kind.

  So shall it be great hurt unto us twain,

  And yours the loss, and mine the deadly pain.

  THE LOVER’S LIFE COMPARED TO THE ALPS

  LIKE unto these unmeasurable mountains

  So is my painful life, the burden of ire;

  For high be they, and high is my desire;

  And I of tears, and they be full of fountains:

  Under craggy rocks they have barren plains; 5

  Hard thoughts in me my woful mind doth tire:

  Small fruit and many leaves their tops do attire,

  With small effect great trust in me remains:

  The boisterous winds oft their high boughs do blast;

  Hot sighs in me continually be shed: 10

  Wild beasts in them, fierce love in me is fed;

  Unmovable am I, and they steadfast.

  Of singing birds they have the tune and note;

  And I always plaints passing through my throat.

  CHARGING OF HIS LOVE AS UNPITEOUS AND LOVING OTHER

  IF amorous faith, or if a heart unfeigned,

  A sweet langour, a great lovely desire,

  If honest will kindled in gentle fire,

  If long error in a blind maze chained,

  If in my visage each thought distained, 5

  Or if my sparkling voice, lower, or higher,

  Which fear and shame so wofully doth tire;

  If pale colour, which love, alas, hath stained,

  If to have another than myself more dear,

  If wailing or sighing continually, 10

  With sorrowful anger feeding busily,

  If burning far off, and if freezing near,

  Are cause that I by love myself destroy,

  Yours is the fault, and mine the great annoy.

  THE LOVER FORSAKETH HIS UNKIND LOVE

  MY heart I gave thee, not to do it pain,

  But to preserve, lo, it to thee was taken.

  I served thee, not that I should be forsaken;

  But, that I should receive reward again,

  I was content thy servant to remain; 5

  And not to be repayed on this fashion.

  Now, since in thee there is none other reason,

  Displease thee not, if that I do refrain.

  Unsatiate of my woe, and thy desire;

  Assured by craft for to excuse thy fault: 10

  But, since it pleaseth thee to feign default,

  Farewell, I say, departing from the fire.

  For he that doth believe, bearing in hand,

  Plougheth in the water, and soweth in the sand.

  THE LOVER DESCRIBETH HIS RESTLESS STATE

  THE FLAMING sighs that boil within my breast,

  Sometime break forth, and they can well declare

  The heart’s unrest, and how that it doth fare,

  The pain thereof, the grief, and all the rest.

  The water’d eyen from whence the tears do fall, 5

  Do feel some force, or else they would be dry;

  The wasted flesh of colour dead can try,

  And sometime tell what sweetness is in gall:

  And he that lust to see, and to discern

  How care can force within a wearied mind, 10

  Come he to me, I am that place assign’d:

  But for all this, no force, it doth no harm;

  The wound, alas, hap in some other place,

  From whence no tool away the scar can raze.

  But you, that of such like have had your part, 15

  Can best be judge. Wherefore, my friend so dear,

  I thought it good my state should now appear

  To you, and that there is no great desert.

  And whereas you, in weighty matters great,

  Of fortune saw the shadow that you know, 20

  For trifling things I now am stricken so,

  That though I feel my heart doth wound and beat,

  I sit alone, save on the second day

  My fever comes, with whom I spend my time

  In burning heat, while that she list assign. 25

  And who hath health and liberty alway,

  Let him thank God, and let him not provoke,

  To have the like of this my painful stroke.

  THE LOVER LAMENTS THE DEATH OF HIS LOVE

  THE PILLAR perish’d is whereto I leant,

  The strongest stay of mine unquiet mind;

  The like of it no man again can find,

  From east to west still seeking though he went,

  To mine unhap. For hap away hath rent 5

  Of all my joy the very bark and rind:

  And I, alas, by chance am thus assign’d

  Daily to mourn, till death do it relent.

  But since that thus it is by destiny,

  What can I more but have a woful heart; 10

  My pen in plaint, my voice in careful cry,

  My mind in woe, my body full of smart;

  And I myself, myself always to hate,

  Till dreadful death do ease by doleful state.

  A RENOUNCING OF LOVE

  FAREWELL, Love, and all thy laws for ever;

  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, 5

  Thy sharp repulse, that pricketh aye so sore,

  Taught me in trifles that I set no store;

  But scaped forth thence, since, liberty is lever:

  Therefore, farewell, go trouble younger hearts,

  And in me claim no more authority: 10

  With idle youth go use thy property,

  And thereon spend thy many brittle darts:

  For, hitherto though I have lost my time,

  Me list no longer rotten boughs to clime.
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  THE LOVER DESPAIRING TO ATTAIN UNTO HIS LADY’S GRACE RELINQUISHETH THE PURSUIT

  WHOSO list to hunt? I know where is an hind!

  But as for me, alas! I may no more,

  The vain travail hath wearied me so sore;

  I am of them that furthest come behind.

  Yet may I by no means my wearied mind 5

  Draw from the deer; but as she fleeth afore

  Fainting I follow; I leave off therefore,

  Since 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! 10

  And graven with diamonds, in letters plain,

  There is written her fair neck round about;

  ‘Noli me tangere; for Cæsar’s I am,

  And wild for to hold, though I seem tame.’

  THE DESERTED LOVER CONSOLETH HIMSELF WITH REMEMBRANCE THAT ALL WOMEN ARE BY NATURE FICKLE

  DIVERS doth use, as I have heard and know,

  When that to change their Ladies do begin

  To mourn, and wail, and never for to lynn;

  Hoping thereby to ‘pease their painful woe.

  And some there be that when it chanceth so 5

  That women change, and hate where love hath been,

  They call them false, and think with words to win

  The hearts of them which otherwhere doth grow.

  But as for me, though that by chance indeed

  Change hath outworn the favour that I had, 10

  I will not wail, lament, nor yet be sad,

  Nor call her false that falsely did me feed;

  But let it pass, and think it is of kind

  That often change doth please a woman’s mind.

  THAT HOPE UNSATISFIED IS TO THE LOVER’S HEART AS A PROLONGED DEATH

  I ABIDE, and abide; and better abide,

  After the old proverb the happy day.

  And ever my Lady to me doth say,

  ‘Let me alone, and I will provide.’

  I abide, and abide, and tarry the tide, 5

  And with abiding speed well ye may.

  Thus do I abide I wot alway,

  N’ other obtaining, nor yet denied.

  Aye me! this long abiding

  Seemeth to me, as who sayeth 10

  A prolonging of a dying death,

  Or a refusing of a desired thing.

  Much were it better for to be plain,

  Than to say, ‘Abide,’ and yet not obtain.

  HE PRAYETH HIS LADY TO BE TRUE, FOR NO ONE CAN RESTRAIN A WILLING MIND

  THOUGH I myself be bridled of my mind,

  Returning me backward by force express;

  If thou seek honour, to keep thy promess

  Who may thee hold, but thou thyself unbind?

  Sigh then no more, since no way man may find 5

  Thy virtue to let, though that frowardness

  Of Fortune me holdeth; and yet as I may guess

  Though other be present thou art not all behind.

  Suffice it then that thou be ready there

  At all hours; still under the defence 10

  Of Time, Truth, and Love to save thee from offence.

  Crying I burn in a lovely desire,

  With my dear Mistress that may not follow;

  Whereby mine absence turneth me to sorrow.

  THE DESERTED LOVER WISHETH THAT HIS RIVAL MIGHT EXPERIENCE THE SAME FORTUNE HE HIMSELF HAD TASTED

  TO rail or jest, ye know I use it not;

  Though that such cause sometime in folks I find.

  And though to change ye list to set your mind.

  Love it who list, in faith I like it not.

  And if ye were to me, as ye are not, 5

  I would be loth to see you so unkind:

  But since your fault must needs be so by kind;

  Though I hate it I pray you love it not.

  Things of great weight I never thought to crave,

  This is but small; of right deny it not: 10

  Your feigning ways, as yet forget them not.

  But like reward let other Lovers have;

  That is to say, for service true and fast,

  Too long delays, and changing at the last.

  Rondeaux

  REQUEST TO CUPID FOR REVENGE OF HIS UNKIND LOVE

  BEHOLD, Love, thy power how she despiseth;

  My grievous pain how little she regardeth:

  The solemn oath, whereof she takes no cure,

  Broken she hath, and yet, she bideth sure,

  Right at her ease, and little thee she dreadeth: 5

  Weaponed thou art, and she unarmed sitteth:

  To thee disdainful, all her life she leadeth;

  To me spiteful, without just cause or measure:

  Behold, Love, how proudly she triumpheth.

  I am in hold, but if thee pity moveth, 10

  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, thee lowly here entreateth.

  COMPLAINT FOR TRUE LOVE UNREQUITED

  WHAT vaileth truth, or by it to take pain?

  To strive by steadfastness for to attain

  How to be just, and flee from doubleness?

  Since all alike, where ruleth craftiness,

  Rewarded is both crafty, false, and plain. 5

  Soonest he speeds that most can lie and feign:

  True meaning heart is had in high disdain.

  Against deceit and cloaked doubleness,

  What vaileth truth, or perfect steadfastness?

  Deceived is he by false and crafty train, 10

  That means no guile, and faithful doth remain

  Within the trap, without help or redress:

  But for to love, lo, such a stern mistress,

  Where cruelty dwells, alas, it were in vain.

  THE LOVER SENDETH SIGHS TO MOVE HIS SUIT

  GO, burning sighs, unto the frozen heart,

  To break the ice, which pity’s painful dart

  Might never pierce: and if that mortal prayer

  In heaven be heard, at least yet I desire

  That death or mercy end my woful smart. 5

  Take with thee pain, whereof I have my part,

  And eke the flame from which I cannot start,

  And leave me then in rest, I you require.

  Go, burning sighs, fulfill that I desire,

  I must go work, I see, by craft and art, 10

  For truth and faith in her is laid apart:

  Alas, I cannot therefore now assail her,

  With pitiful complaint and scalding fire,

  That, from my breast deceivably doth start.

  THE LOVER SEEKING FOR HIS LOST HEART PRAYETH THAT IT MAY BE KINDLY ENTREATED BY WHOMSOEVER FOUND

  HELP me to seek! for I lost it there;

  And if that ye have found it, ye that be here,

  And seek to convey it secretly,

  Handle it soft, and treat it tenderly,

  Or else it will plain, and then appair. 5

  But pray restore it mannerly,

  Since that I do ask it thus honestly,

  For to lese it, it sitteth me near;

  Help me to seek!

  Alas! and is there no remedy: 10

  But have I thus lost it wilfully.

  I wis it was a thing all too dear

  To be bestowed, and wist not where.

  It was mine heart! I pray you heartily

  Help me to seek. 15

  HE DETERMINETH TO CEASE TO LOVE

  FOR to love her for her looks lovely,

  My heart was set in thought right firmly,

  Trusting by truth to have had redress;

  But she hath made another promess,

  And hath given me leave full honestly. 5

  Yet do I not rejoice it greatly;

  For on my faith I loved too surely,

  But reason wil
l that I do cesse,

  For to love her.

  Since (that in love the pains been deadly), 10

  Methink it best that readily

  I do return to my first address;

  For at this time too great is the press,

  And perils appear too abundantly,

  For to love her. 15

  OF THE FOLLY OF LOVING WHEN THE SEASON OF LOVE IS PAST

  YE old mule! that think yourself so fair,

  Leave off with craft your beauty to repair,

  For it is time without any fable;

  No man setteth now by riding in your saddle!

  Too much travail so do your train appair 5

  Ye old mule!

  With false favour though you deceive the ayes,

  Who so taste you shall well perceive your layes

  Savoureth somewhat of a keeper’s stable;

  Ye old mule! 10

  Ye must now serve to market, and to fair,

  All for the burthen, for panniers a pair;

  For since grey hairs ben powder’d in your sable,

  The thing ye seek for, you must yourself enable

  To purchase it by payment and by prayer; 15

  Ye old mule!

  THE ABUSED LOVER RESOLVETH TO FORGET HIS UNKIND MISTRESS

  WHAT no, perdie! ye may be sure!

  Think not to make me to your lure,

  With words and chere so contrarying,

  Sweet and sower countre-weighing,

  Too much it were still to endure. 5

  Truth is tried, where craft is in ure,

  But though ye have had my heartes cure,

  Trow ye! I dote without ending?

  What no, perdie!

  Though that with pain I do procure 10

  For to forget that once was pure;

  Within my heart shall still that thing

  Unstable, unsure, and wavering,

  Be in my mind without recure?

  What no, perdie! 15

  THE ABSENT LOVER PERSUADETH HIMSELF THAT HIS MISTRESS WILL NOT HAVE THE POWER TO FORSAKE HIM