by Thomas Wyatt
Yet I protest she hath no name;
It doth suffice she doth me wrong.
HE COMPLAINETH TO HIS HEART THAT HAVING ONCE RECOVERED HIS FREEDOM HE HAD AGAIN BECOME THRALL TO LOVE
AH! my heart, what aileth thee?
To set so light my liberty!
Making me bond when I was free:
Ah! my heart, what aileth thee?
When thou were rid from all distress, 5
Void of all pain and pensiveness,
To choose again a new mistress;
Ah! my heart, what aileth thee?
When thou were well thou could not hold:
To turn again, that were too bold; 10
Thus to renew my sorrows old,
Ah! my heart, what aileth thee?
Thou know’st full well that but of late,
I was turned out of Love’s gate:
And now to guide me to this mate! 15
Ah! my heart, what aileth thee?
I hop’d full well all had been done;
But now my hope is ta’en and won;
To my torment to yield so soon,
Ah! my heart, what aileth thee? 20
HE PROFESSETH INDIFFERENCE
HATE whom ye list, for I care not;
Love whom ye list, and spare not;
Do what ye list, and dread not;
Think what ye list, I fear not;
For as for me I am not; 5
But even as one that recks not,
Whether ye hate or hate not,
For in your love I dote not;
Wherefore I pray you forget not;
But love whom ye list, for I care not. 10
HE REJOICETH THAT HE HAD BROKEN THE SNARES OF LOVE
TANGLED I was in Love’s snare,
Oppressed with pain, torment with care;
Of grief right sure, of joy full bare,
Clean in despair by cruelty;
But ha! ha! ha! full well is me, 5
For I am now at liberty.
The woful days so full of pain,
The weary night all spent in vain,
The labour lost for so small gain,
To write them all it will not be; 10
But ha! ha! ha! full well is me,
For I am now at liberty.
Every thing that fair, doth shew,
When proof is made it proveth not so;
But turneth mirth to bitter woe, 15
Which in this case full well I see;
But ha! ha! ha! full well is me,
For I am now at liberty.
Too great desire was my guide,
And wanton will went by my side, 20
Hope ruled still and made me bide,
Of Love’s craft the extremity.
But ha! ha! ha! full well is me,
For I am now at liberty.
With feigned words, which were but wind, 25
To long delays I was assign’d;
Her wily looks my wits did blind;
Thus as she would I did agree.
But ha! ha! ha! full well is me,
For I am now at liberty. 30
Was never bird tangled in lime
That brake away in better time,
Than I, that rotten boughs did climb,
And had no hurt but scaped free.
Now ha! ha! ha! full well is me, 35
For I am now at liberty.
THE LOVER PRAYETH THAT HIS LADY’S HEART MIGHT BE INFLAMED WITH EQUAL AFFECTION
LOVE doth again
Put me to pain,
And yet all is but lost.
I serve in vain,
And am certain, 5
Of all misliked most.
Both heat and cold
Doth so me hold,
And comber so my mind;
That whom I should 10
Speak and behold,
It driveth me still behind.
My wits be past,
My life doth waste,
My comfort is exiled; 15
And I in haste,
Am like to taste
How love hath me beguiled.
Unless that right
May in her sight 20
Obtain pity and grace;
Why should a wight
Have beauty bright,
If mercy have no place.
Yet I, alas! 25
Am in such case;
That back I cannot go;
But still forth trace
A patient pace,
And suffer secret woe. 30
For with the wind
My fired mind
Doth still inflame;
And she unkind
That did me bind, 35
Doth turn it all to game.
Yet can no pain
Make me refrain,
Nor here and there to range;
I shall retain 40
Hope to obtain
Her heart that is so strange.
But I require
The painful fire,
That oft doth make me sweat; 45
For all my ire,
With like desire,
To give her heart a heat.
Then she shall prove
How I her love, 50
And what I have offer’d;
Which should her move,
For to remove
The pains that I have suffer’d.
And better fee 55
Than she gave me,
She shall of me attain;
For whereas she
Shewed cruelty,
She shall my heart obtain. 60
THE DISDAINFUL LADY REFUSING TO HEAR HER LOVER’S SUIT, HE RESOLVETH TO FORSAKE HER
NOW all of change
Must be my song,
And from my bond now must I break;
Since she so strange,
Unto my wrong, 5
Doth stop her ears, to hear me speak.
Yet none doth know
So well as she,
My grief, which can have no restraint;
That fain would follow, 10
Now needs must flee,
For fault of ear unto my plaint.
I am not he
By false assays,
Nor feigned faith can bear in hand; 15
Though most I see
That such always
Are best for to be understand.
But I that truth
Hath always meant, 20
Doth still proceed to serve in vain:
Desire pursueth
My time mispent,
And doth not pass upon my pain.
Of Fortune’s might 25
That each compels,
And me the most, it doth suffice;
Now for my right
To ask nought else
But to withdraw this enterprise. 30
And for the gain
Of that good hour,
Which of my woe shall be relief;
I shall refrain
By painful power, 35
The thing that most hath been my grief.
I shall not miss
To exercise
The help thereof which doth me teach,
That after this 40
In any wise
To keep right within my reach.
And she unjust
Which feareth not
In this her fame to be defiled, 45
Yet once I trust
Shall be my lot
To quite the craft that me beguiled.
THE ABSENT LOVER FINDETH ALL HIS PAINS REDOUBLED
ABSENCE, absenting causeth me to complain,
My sorrowful complaints abiding in distress;
And departing most privy increaseth my pain,
Thus live I uncomforted wrapped all in heaviness.
In heaviness I am wrapped, devoid of all solace, 5
Neither pastime nor pleasure can revive my dull wit,
My spirits be all taken, and death doth me menace,
With his fata
l knife the thread for to kit.
For to cut the thread of this wretched life,
And shortly bring me out of this case; 10
I see it availeth not, yet must I be pensive,
Since fortune from me hath turned her face.
Her face she hath turned with countenance contrarious,
And clean from her presence she hath exiled me,
In sorrow remaining as a man most dolorous, 15
Exempt from all pleasure and worldly felicity.
All worldly felicity now am I private,
And left in desart most solitarily,
Wandering all about as one without mate;
My death approacheth; what remedy! 20
What remedy, alas! to rejoice my woful heart,
With sighs suspiring most ruefully;
Now welcome! I am ready to depart;
Farewell all pleasure! welcome pain and smart!
HE SEEKETH COMFORT IN PATIENCE
PATIENCE! for I have wrong
And dare not shew wherein;
Patience shall be my song;
Since Truth can nothing win.
Patience then for this fit; 5
Hereafter comes not yet.
OF THE POWER OF LOVE OVER THE YIELDEN LOVER
WILL ye see what wonders Love hath wrought?
Then come and look at me.
There need no where else to be sought,
In me ye may them see.
For unto that, that men may see 5
Most monstrous thing of kind,
Myself may best compared be;
Love hath me so assign’d.
There is a rock in the salt flood,
A rock of such nature, 10
That draweth the iron from the wood,
And leaveth the ship unsure.
She is the rock, the ship am I;
That rock my deadly foe,
That draweth me there where I must die, 15
And robbeth my heart me fro.
A bird there fleeth, and that but one,
Of her this thing ensueth;
That when her days be spent and gone,
With fire she reneweth. 20
And I with her may well compare
My love, that is alone;
The flame whereof doth aye repair
My life when it is gone.
HE LAMENTETH THAT HE HAD EVER CAUSE TO DOUBT HIS LADY’S FAITH
DEEM as ye list upon good cause,
I may or think of this, or that;
But what, or why myself best knows
Whereby I think and fear not.
But thereunto I may well think 5
The doubtful sentence of this clause;
‘I would it were not as I think;
I would I thought it were not.’
For if I thought it were not so,
Though it were so, it grieved me not; 10
Unto my thought it were as tho’
I hearkened though I hear not.
At that I see I cannot wink,
Nor from my thought so let it go;
‘I would it were not as I think; 15
I would I thought it were not.’
Lo! how my thought might make me free,
Of that perchance it needs not.
Perchance none doubt the dread I see;
I shrink at that I bear not. 20
But in my heart this word shall sink,
Until the proof may better be;
‘I would it were not as I think;
I would I thought it were not.’
If it be not, shew no cause why 25
I should so think, then care I not;
For I shall so myself apply
To be that I appear not.
That is, as one that shall not shrink
To be your own until I die; 30
‘And if that be not as I think,
Likewise to think it is not.’
THE RECURED LOVER EXULTETH IN HIS FREEDOM, AND VOWETH TO REMAIN FREE UNTIL DEATH
I AM as I am, and so will I be;
But how that I am, none knoweth truly.
Be it evil, be it well, be I bond, be I free,
I am as I am, and so will I be.
I lead my life indifferently; 5
I mean nothing but honesty;
And though folks judge full diversely,
I am as I am, and so will I die.
I do not rejoice, nor yet complain,
Both mirth and sadness I do refrain, 10
And use the means since folks will feign;
Yet I am as I am, be it pleasure or pain.
Divers do judge as they do trow,
Some of pleasure and some of woe,
Yet for all that nothing they know; 15
But I am as I am, wheresoever I go.
But since judgers do thus decay,
Let every man his judgment say;
I will it take in sport and play,
For I am as I am, whosoever say nay. 20
Who judgeth well, well God him send;
Who judgeth evil, God them amend;
To judge the best therefore intend,
For I am as I am, and so will I end.
Yet some there be that take delight 25
To judge folks’ thought for envy and spite;
But whether they judge me wrong or right,
I am as I am, and so do I write.
Praying you all that this do read,
To trust it as you do your creed; 30
And not to think I change my weed,
For I am as I am, however I speed.
But how that is I leave to you;
Judge as ye list, false or true,
Ye know no more than afore ye knew, 35
Yet I am as I am, whatever ensue.
And from this mind I will not flee,
But to you all that misjudge me,
I do protest as ye may see
That I am as I am, and so will he. 40
Poems
WYATT’S COMPLAINT UPON LOVE TO REASON, WITH LOVE’S ANSWER
MINE old dear enemy, my froward master,
Afore that Queen I caused to be acited,
Which holdeth the divine part of our nature;
That like as gold in fire, he might be tried:
Charged with dolour, there I me presented, 5
With horrible fear, as one that greatly dreadeth
A wrongful death, and justice alway seeketh.
And thus I said: ‘Once my left foot, Madame,
When I was young, I set within his reign;
Whereby other than fiery burning flame 10
I never felt, but many a grievous pain:
Torment I suffer’d, anger and disdain;
That mine oppressed patience was past,
And I mine own life hated at the last.
‘Thus hitherto have I my time passed 15
In pain and smart: what ways profitable,
How many pleasant days have me escaped,
In serving this false liar so deceivable?
What wit have words so prest and forcible,
That may contain my great mishappiness, 20
And just complaints of his ungentleness?
‘So small honey, much aloes, and gall,
In bitterness, my blind life have I tasted:
His false semblance, that turneth as a ball,
With fair and amorous dance, made me be traced; 25
And where I had my thought, and mind araised
From earthly frailness, and from vain pleasure,
Me from my rest he took, and set in error.
‘God made he me regardless, than I ought,
And to myself to take right little heed: 30
And for a woman have I set at nought
All other thoughts, in this only to speed:
And he was only counsellor of this deed;
Whetting always my youthly frail desire
On cruel whetstone, tempered with fire. 35
‘Bu
t oh, alas, where had I ever wit,
Or other gift given to me of nature?
That sooner shall be changed my wearied sprite
Than the obstinate will, that is my ruler:
So robbeth he my freedom with displeasure; 40
This wicked traitor, whom I thus accuse:
That bitter life hath turned in pleasant use.
‘He hath me hasted through divers regions;
Through desert woods, and sharp high mountains;
Through froward people, and through bitter passions; 45
Through rocky seas, and over hills and plains;
With weary travel, and with laborous pains;
Always in trouble and in tediousness,
In all error, and dangerous distress.
‘But neither he nor she, my other foe, 50
For all my flight did ever me forsake:
That though my timely death hath been too slow,
That me, as yet, it hath not overtake:
The heavenly gods of pity do it slake!
And note they this his cruel tyranny, 55
That feeds him with my care, and misery!
‘Since I was his, hour rested I never,
Nor look to do; and eke the wakey nights
The banished sleep may in no wise recover
By guile and force, over my thralled sprites. 60
He is ruler, since which bell never strikes
That I hear not as sounding to renew my plaints.
Himself he knoweth that I say true.
‘For never worms old rotten stock have eaten,
As he my heart, where he is resident, 65
And doth the same with death daily threaten;
Thence come the tears, and thence the bitter torment,
The sighs, the words, and eke the languishment,
That annoy both me, and peradventure other:
Judge thou that knowest the one, and eke the other. 70
Mine adversary with such grievous reproof,
Thus he began; ‘Hear, Lady, the other part;
That the plain truth, from which he draweth aloof,
This unkind man may shew, ere that I part:
In his young age, I took him from that art, 75
That selleth words, and make a clattering knight,
And of my wealth I gave him the delight.
‘Now shames he not on me for to complain,
That held him evermore in pleasant game,
From his desire, that might have been his pain: 80
Yet thereby alone I brought him to some frame;
Which now as wretchedness, he doth so blame;
And toward honour quickened I his wit,
Where as a dastard else he might have sit.