"In this fine moral ode, the sentiments are highly dignified and just; the versification has that grave and solemn flow of harmony which is peculiar to Wyatt's composition. The whole is formed on three detached passages in Boethius de Consolatione."

An earnest suit to his unkind Mistress not to forsake him.
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay, say nay for shame!
To save me 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;

Neither 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,

On him that loveth thee?

Alas! thy cruelty!

And wilt thou leave me thus?

Say nay, say nay!

The Poet sheweth how he is forsaken of Fortune, who sometime favoured him.

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 continual change.

Thanked be Fortune, it hath been otherwise
Twenty times better; but once in special,
In thin array, after a pleasing guise

When her loose gown from her shoulders did fall;
And she me caught in her arms long and small,
Therewithall sweetly she did me kiss

And softly said: "Dear heart how like you this?"

It was no dream, I lay broad waking,

But all is turned through my gentleness,
Into a strange fashion of forsaking;

And I have leave to go of her goodness,
And she also to use new-fangleness;
But since that I so kindly now am served,
I fain would know what she hath deserved.

This is an original ode, and highly characteristic of Wyatt's peculiar manner. The personification of Fortune, with her loose gown falling from her shoulders, is one of the most pleasing images in the whole compass of his poetry." The propriety of the salute, depends in a great measure, on a circumstance which grew out of the manners of the days of chivalry, and which is now forgotten. Whenever a lady accepted the service of a knight, or acknowledged a person as her servant or lover, she gave him a kiss, voluntarily offered on her

part, and this was considered to be an inviolable bond of obligation. The kiss being thus given, the lover was formally recognised under the title of "Servant d'Amour."-See Chaucer's Troilus and Cressida, B. 111."

The Lover prayeth not to be disdained, refused, mistrusted, nor forsaken.

Disdain me not without desert,
Nor leave me not so suddenly;
Since well ye wot that in my heart,
I mean ye not but honestly.

Refuse me not without cause why,
Nor think me not to be unjust;
Since that by lot of fantacy,

This careful knot needs knit I must.

Mistrust me not, though some there be,
That fain would spot my stedfastness;
Believe them not, since that ye see
The proof is not as they express.

Forsake me not 'till I deserve,

Nor hate me not, 'till I offend;
Destroy me not 'till that I swerve;

But since ye know what I intend.

Disdain me not that am your own;

Refuse me not, that am so true ;
Mistrust me not, 'till all be known;
Forsake me not now for some new.

D

On his return from Spain.

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

That pleasure is mixed with every pain. Venomous thorns that are so sharp and keen Sometimes bear flowers fair and fresh of hue ; Poison oftime is put in medicine,

And causeth health in man for to renew.

Fire that purgeth all things that are unclean,

May health and hurt: and if these things be true,

may

I trust sometime my harm
be my
health;
Since every woe is joined with some wealth.

This little poem is a translation from the Italian of Serafino.

The Lover complaineth that his Love doth not pity him.
Resound my voice ye woods, that hear me plain,
Both hills and dales causing reflection;

And rivers eke, record ye of my pain,
Which have ye oft forced by compassion
As judges, to hear my exclamation,
Among whom pity I find doth remain ;
Where I it seek, alas! there is disdain.

Oft, ye rivers, to hear my woeful sound

Have stopped your course: and plainly to express, Many a tear by moisture of the ground,

The earth hath wept to hear my heaviness,
Which causeless I suffer without redress:
The hugy oaks have roared in the wind.
Each thing methought complaining in their kind.

Why then, alas! doth not she on me rue?
Or is her heart so hard that no pity
May in it sink, my joy for to renew?

O stony heart! who hath thus framed thee
So cruel that art clothed with beauty.
No grace to me from thee there may proceed,
But as rewarded, death for to be my meed.

The Lover compareth his state to a Ship in a perilous storm tossed on the sea.

My galley charged with forgetfulness,

Thorough sharp seas in winter's nights doth pass
"Tween rock and rock; mine enemy, alas!
That is my lord, steereth with cruelness,
And every oar, 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,
Have done the wearied cords great hinderance,
Wreathed with error and with ignorance.
The stars be hid that led me to this pain;
Drowned is reason that should me consort,

And I remain despairing of the port.