On his return from Spain. Tagus farewell! that westward with thy streams, 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, I trust sometime my harm may 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. And rivers eke, record ye of my pain, 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, Why then, alas! doth not she on me rue? May in it sink, my joy for to renew? O stony heart! who hath thus framed thee No grace to me from thee there may proceed, 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. And I remain despairing of the port. This sonnet is a translation from one of Petrarch's beginning Passa la nave mia colma d'obblio. It is perhaps the most correctly finished of all Wyatt's sonnets, and will not suffer by comparison with any similar composition of that age. The Courtier's Life. In courts to serve decked with fresh array, Of sugar'd meats feeling the sweet repast; Hath with it joined oft times such bitter taste, Of the mean and sure estate. Stand whoso list, upon the slippery top Unknown in court that hath such brackish joys. I That when my years be done withouten noise, may die aged after the common trace. For him death gripeth right hard by the crop, "This is a translation of the following lines of Seneca's Thyestes. Stet quicunque volet potens Aula culmine lubrico; The reader perhaps need not be reminded, that the above passage from Seneca has been frequently imitated in our language. If Wyatt's were compared with any of the more modern translations, it would not be found inferior to the best." Of dissembling words. Throughout the world, if it were sought, That sweet accord is seldom seen. That the eye betrayeth always the secret affections of the heart. And if an eye may save or slay, And strike more deep than weapon long; And if an eye by subtle play, May move one more than any tongue How can ye say that I do wrong Thus to suspect without desert? To frame all well, I am content That the eye is traitor to the heart. But yet alas! that look, all soul, That I do claim of right to have, Should not, methinks, go seek the school, To please all folk, for who can crave Friendlier thing than heart witsave By look to give in friendly part; And my suspect is without blame; For as ye say, not only I But others more have deemed the same; Then sure it is not jealousy, If subtle look of reckless eye Did range too far, to make me smart; For the eye is traitor to the heart. But I your friend shall take it thus, Since you will so, as stroke of chance; And further leave for to discuss, Whether the stroke did stick or glance; Excuse who can let him advance Dissembled looks, but for my part, My eye must still betray my heart. |