by Thomas Wyatt
To live in sorrows always sad, 5
I like not so to linger forth;
Hap evil or good I shall be glad
To take that comes, as well in worth.
Should I sustain this great distress,
Still wandering forth thus to and fro, 10
In dreadful hope to hold my peace,
And feed myself with secret woe?
Nay! nay! certain, I will not so!
But sure I shall myself apply
To put in proof this doubt to know, 15
And rid this danger readily.
I shall assay by secret suit
To shew the mind of mine intent;
And my deserts shall give such fruit
As with my heart my words be meant; 20
So by the proof of this consent
Soon out of doubt I shall be sure,
For to rejoice, or to repent,
In joy, or pain for to endure.
OF THE EXTREME TORMENT ENDURED BY THE UNHAPPY LOVER
MY love is like unto th’ eternal fire,
And I, as those which therein do remain;
Whose grievous pains is but their great desire
To see the sight which they may not attain:
So in hell’s heat myself I feel to be, 5
That am restrain’d by great extremity,
The sight of her which is so dear to me.
O! puissant Love! and power of great avail!
By whom hell may be felt ere death assail!
HE BIDDETH FAREWELL TO HIS UNKIND MISTRESS
SINCE so ye please to hear me plain,
And that ye do rejoice my smart;
Me list no longer to remain
To such as be so overthwart:
But cursed be that cruel heart 5
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; 10
A speedless proof I have endured;
And now I leave it to them that lust.
HE REPENTETH THAT HE HAD EVER LOVED
NOW must I learn to live at rest,
And wean me of my will;
For I repent where I was prest
My fancy to fulfil.
I may no longer more endure 5
My wonted life to lead;
But I must learn to put in ure
The change of womanhed.
I may not see my service long
Rewarded in such wise; 10
Nor I may not sustain such wrong
That ye my love despise.
I may not sigh in sorrow deep,
Nor wail the want of love;
Nor I may neither crouch nor creep 15
Where it doth not behove.
But I of force must needs forsake
My faith so fondly set;
And from henceforth must undertake
Such folly to forget. 20
Now must I seek some other ways
Myself for to withsave;
And as I trust by mine essays
Some remedy to have.
I ask none other remedy 25
To recompense my wrong;
But once to have the liberty
That I have lack’d so long.
THE LOVER BESEECHETH HIS MISTRESS NOT TO FORGET HIS STEADFAST FAITH AND TRUE INTENT
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 5
The weary life ye know, since whan
The suit, the service none tell can;
Forget not yet!
Forget not yet the great assays,
The cruel wrong, the scornful ways, 10
The painful patience in delays,
Forget not yet!
Forget not! oh! forget not this,
How long ago hath been, and is
The mind that never meant amiss, 15
Forget not yet!
Forget not then thine own approv’d,
The which so long hath thee so lov’d,
Whose steadfast faith yet never mov’d:
Forget not this! 20
HE BEWAILS THE PAIN HE ENDURES WHEN BANISHED FROM THE MISTRESS OF HIS HEART
O! MISERABLE sorrow, withouten cure!
If it please thee, lo! to have me thus suffer,
At least yet let her know what I endure,
And this my last voice carry thou thither,
Where lived my hope, now dead for ever: 5
For as ill grievous is my banishment,
As was my pleasure when she was present.
HE COMPARES HIS SUFFERINGS TO THOSE OF TANTALUS
THE FRUIT of all the service that I serve
Despair doth reap; such hapless hap have I.
But though he have no power to make me swerve,
Yet by the fire for cold I feel I die.
In paradise for hunger still I sterve, 5
And in the flood for thirst to death I dry;
So Tantalus am I, and in worse pain,
Amidst my help that helpless doth remain.
THAT NOTHING MAY ASSUAGE HIS PAIN SAVE ONLY HIS LADY’S FAVOUR
IF with complaint the pain might be express’d
That inwardly doth cause me sigh and groan;
Your hard heart, and your cruel breast
Should sigh and plain for my unrest;
And though it were of stone, 5
Yet should remorse cause it relent and moan.
But since it is so far out of measure,
That with my words I can it not contain,
My only trust! my heart’s treasure!
Alas! why do I still endure 10
This restless smart and pain?
Since if ye list ye may my woe restrain.
THE LOVER PRAYETH THAT HIS LONG SUFFERINGS MAY AT LENGTH FIND RECOMPENSE
YE know my heart, my Lady dear!
That since the time I was your thrall
I have been yours both whole and clear,
Though my reward hath been but small;
So am I yet, and more than all. 5
And ye know well how I have serv’d,
As if ye prove it shall appear,
How well, how long,
How faithfully!
And suffered wrong, 10
How patiently!
Then since that I have never swerv’d,
Let not my pains be undeserv’d.
Ye know also, though ye say nay,
That you alone are my desire; 15
And you alone it is that may
Assuage my fervent flaming fire.
Succour me then I you require!
Ye know it were a just request,
Since ye do cause my heat, I say, 20
If that I burn,
It will ye warm,
And not to turn,
All to my harm,
Lending such flame from frozen breast 25
Against nature for my unrest.
And I know well how scornfully
Ye have mista’en my true intent;
And hitherto how wrongfully,
I have found cause for to repent. 30
But if your heart doth not relent,
Since I do know that this ye know,
Ye shall slay me all wilfully.
For me, and mine,
And all I have, 35
Ye may assign,
To spill or save.
Why are ye then so cruel foe
Unto your own, that loves you so?
HE DESCRIBETH THE CEASELESS TORMENTS OF LOVE
SINCE you will needs that I shall sing,
Take it in worth such as I have;
Plenty of plaint, moan, and mourning,
In deep despair and deadly pain.
Bootless for boot, crying
to crave; 5
To crave in vain.
Such hammers work within my head
That sound nought else unto my ears,
But fast at board, and wake a-bed:
Such tune the temper to my song 10
To wail my wrong, that I want tears
To wail my wrong.
Death and despair afore my face,
My days decay, my grief doth grow;
The cause thereof is in this place, 15
Whom cruelty doth still constrain
For to rejoice, though I be woe,
To hear me plain.
A broken lute, untuned strings,
With such a song may well bear part, 20
That neither pleaseth him that sings,
Nor them that hear, but her alone
That with her heart would strain my heart
To hear it groan.
If it grieve you to hear this same, 25
That you do feel but in my voice,
Consider then what pleasant game
I do sustain in every part,
To cause me sing or to rejoice
Within my heart. 30
THAT THE SEASON OF ENJOYMENT IS SHORT, AND SHOULD NOT PASS BY NEGLECTED
ME list no more to sing
Of love, nor of such thing,
How sore that it me wring;
For what I sung or spake,
Men did my songs mistake. 5
My songs were too diffuse;
They made folk to muse;
Therefore me to excuse,
They shall be sung more plain,
Neither of joy nor pain. 10
What vaileth then to skip
At fruit over the lip
. . . . . . . .
For fruit withouten taste
Doth nought but rot and waste.
What vaileth under kay 15
To keep treasure alway,
That never shall see day.
If it be not used,
It is but abused.
What vaileth the flower 20
To stand still and wither;
If no man it savour
It serves only for sight,
And fadeth towards night.
Therefore fear not to assay 25
To gather, ye that may,
The flower that this day
Is fresher than the next.
Mark well I say this text:
Let not the fruit be lost 30
That is desired most;
Delight shall quite the cost.
If it be ta’en in time
Small labour is to climb.
And as for such treasure 35
That maketh thee the richer,
And no deal the poorer
When it is given or lent,
Methinks it were well spent.
If this be under mist, 40
And not well plainly wist,
Understand me who list,
For I reek not a bean;
I wot what I do mean.
THAT THE PAIN HE ENDURED SHOULD NOT MAKE HIM CEASE FROM LOVING
THE JOY so short, alas! the pain so near,
The way so long, the departure so smart;
The first sight, alas! I bought too dear,
That so suddenly now from hence must part.
The body gone yet remain shall the heart 5
With her, the which for me salt tears doth rain;
And shall not change till that we meet again.
The time doth pass, yet shall not my love;
Though I be far, always my heart is near.
Though other change yet will not I remove; 10
Though other care not, yet love I will and fear;
Though other hate, yet will I love my dear;
Though other will of lightness say ‘Adieu,’
Yet will I be found steadfast and true.
When other laugh, alas! then do I weep; 15
When other sing, then do I wail and cry;
When other run, perforced I am to creep;
When other dance, in sorrow I do lie;
When other joy, for pain well near I die;
Thus brought from wealth, alas! to endless pain, 20
That undeserved, causeless to remain.
THE COMPLAINT OF A DESERTED LOVER
HOW should I
Be so pleasant,
In my semblant,
As my fellows be?
Not long ago, 5
It chanced so,
As I did walk alone;
I heard a man,
That now and than
Himself did thus bemoan: 10
‘Alas!’ he said,
‘I am betray’d,
And utterly undone;
Whom I did trust,
And think so just, 15
Another man hath won.
‘My service due,
And heart so true,
On her I did bestow;
I never meant 20
For to repent,
In wealth, nor yet in woe.
‘Each western wind
Hath turned her mind,
And blown it clean away; 25
Thereby my wealth,
My mirth and health,
Are driven to great decay.
‘Fortune did smile
A right short while, 30
And never said me nay;
With pleasant plays,
And joyful days,
My time to pass away.
‘Alas! alas! 35
The time so was,
So never shall it be,
Since she is gone,
And I alone
Am left as you may see. 40
‘Where is the oath?
Where is the troth?
That she to me did give?
Such feigned words,
With sely bourds, 45
Let no wise man believe.
‘For even as I,
Thus wofully,
Unto myself complain:
If ye then trust, 50
Needs learn ye must,
To sing my song in vain.
‘How should I
Be so pleasant,
In my semblant, 55
As my fellows be?’
THAT FAITH IS DEAD, AND TRUE LOVE DISREGARDED
WHAT should I say?
Since Faith is dead,
And Truth away
From you is fled?
Should I be led 5
With doubleness?
Nay! nay! Mistress.
I promis’d you,
And you promis’d me,
To be as true, 10
As I would be.
But since I see
Your double heart,
Farewell my part!
Thought for to take, 15
It is not my mind;
But to forsake
[One so unkind;]
And as I find,
So will I trust; 20
Farewell, unjust!
Can ye say nay,
But that you said
That I alway
Should be obey’d? 25
And thus betray’d,
Or that I wist!
Farewell, unkist!
THE LOVER COMPLAINETH THAT HIS FAITHFUL HEART AND TRUE MEANING HAD NEVER MET WITH JUST REWARD
GIVE place! all ye that doth rejoice,
And love’s pangs hath clean forgot.
Let them draw near and hear my voice
Whom Love doth force in pains to fret;
For all of plaint my song is set, 5
Which long hath served and nought can get.
A faithful heart so truly meant,
Rewarded is full slenderly;
A steadfast faith with good intent
Is recompensed craftily; 10
Such hap doth hap unhappily
To them that mean but honestly.
With humble suit I have essayed
To turn her cruel hearted mind;
But for
reward I am delayed, 15
And to my wealth her eyes be blind.
Lo! thus by chance I am assign’d
With steadfast love to serve the unkind.
What vaileth truth, or steadfastness,
Or still to serve without repreef! 20
What vaileth faith or gentleness,
Where cruelty doth reign as chief!
Alas! there is no greater grief
Than for to love, and lack relief.
Care doth constrain me to complain 25
Of Love, and her uncertainty,
Which granteth nought but great disdain,
For loss of all my liberty.
Alas! this is extremity,
For love to find such cruelty. 30
For love to find such cruelty
Alas! it is a careful lot;
And for to void such mockery
There is no way but slip the knot!
The gain so cold, the pain so hot! 35
Praise it who list, I like it not.
THE FORSAKEN LOVER CONSOLETH HIMSELF WITH REMEMBRANCE OF PAST HAPPINESS
SPITE hath no power to make me sad,
Nor scornfulness to make me plain.
It doth suffice that once I had,
And so to leave it is no pain.
Let them frown on that least doth gain, 5
Who did rejoice must needs be glad;
And though with words thou wee’nst to reign,
It doth suffice that once I had.
Since that in checks thus overthwart,
And coyly looks thou dost delight; 10
It doth suffice that mine thou wert,
Though change hath put thy faith to flight.
Alas! it is a peevish spite,
To yield thyself and then to part;
But since thou force thy faith so light, 15
It doth suffice that mine thou wert.
And since thy love doth thus decline,
And in thy heart such hate doth grow;
It doth suffice that thou wert mine,
And with good will I quite it so. 20
Sometime my friend, farewell my foe,
Since thou change I am not thine;
But for relief of all my woe,
It doth suffice that thou wert mine.
Praying you all that hear this song, 25
To judge no wight, nor none to blame;
It doth suffice she doth me wrong,
And that herself doth know the same.
And though she change it is no shame,
Their kind it is, and hath been long; 30
