The Poetical Works of Sir Thomas WyattW. Pickering, 1831 - 244 pages |
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Page lxxxi
... sore rod . ' I suppose I have not missaid in that : For all powers , namely absolute , are sore rods when they fall into evil men's hands ; and yet I say , they are to be obeyed by express law of [ God ] ; for that there is no evil ...
... sore rod . ' I suppose I have not missaid in that : For all powers , namely absolute , are sore rods when they fall into evil men's hands ; and yet I say , they are to be obeyed by express law of [ God ] ; for that there is no evil ...
Page 1
... I never of your love aggrieved , Nor never shall while that my life doth last : But of hating myself , that date is past ; And tears continual sore have me wearied : VOL . II . B I will not yet in my grave be buried ;
... I never of your love aggrieved , Nor never shall while that my life doth last : But of hating myself , that date is past ; And tears continual sore have me wearied : VOL . II . B I will not yet in my grave be buried ;
Page 10
... earnest and game , With seldom glad , and many a diverse thought , In sore repentance of his hardiness , Of such a root , lo , cometh fruit fruitless . THE LOVER ABUSED RENOUNCETH LOVE . My love to scorn 10 SIR THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS .
... earnest and game , With seldom glad , and many a diverse thought , In sore repentance of his hardiness , Of such a root , lo , cometh fruit fruitless . THE LOVER ABUSED RENOUNCETH LOVE . My love to scorn 10 SIR THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS .
Page 13
... sore , that very often I hate and envy them beyond all measure . Love slayeth mine heart , while Fortune is depriver Of all my comfort ; the foolish mind then Burneth and plaineth , as one that very seldome Liveth in rest . So still in ...
... sore , that very often I hate and envy them beyond all measure . Love slayeth mine heart , while Fortune is depriver Of all my comfort ; the foolish mind then Burneth and plaineth , as one that very seldome Liveth in rest . So still in ...
Page 18
... 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 : With idle youth go use thy property , And ...
... 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 : With idle youth go use thy property , And ...
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Common terms and phrases
accuse afore Anne Boleyn assign'd Bishop of London Bishop of Rome blame cause chance COMPLAINT cruel CRUEL LOVE cruelty dear death deed desert desire disdain doth dread Earl of Essex Earl of Surrey evermore eyes faith fault favour fear feign fire fleeth forsake Fortune grace grief hand hath hear heart honest honour hope King King's Majesty LADY letters liberty live Lord Lordship LOVER COMPLAINETH lust Lute Mason mayst mercy mind MISTRESS moan never nought offence pain Patience PENITENTIAL PSALMS perdie pity plain pleasant pleasure redress rejoice sador say nay seek shame shew sighs Sir Thomas Sir Thomas Wyatt smart song sore sorrow Spain steadfast suffer sure tears thee thereof thine thing thou hast thought thyself traitor treason true trust truth unkind unto vaileth wealth ween Whereby William Hawte woful words wretched Wyatt ye know ye list
Popular passages
Page 111 - 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...
Page 31 - 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 a continual change.
Page 126 - ... Forget not yet when first began 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, The painful patience in delays, Forget not yet! Forget not! O, forget not this! — How long ago hath been, and is The mind that never meant amiss — Forget not yet!
Page 18 - 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...
Page 142 - 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.
Page 19 - I am of them that furthest come behind. Yet may I by no means my wearied mind 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 ! And graven with diamonds, in letters plain, There is written her fair neck round about; ' Noli me tangere ; for Caesar's I am, And wild for to hold, though I seem tame.
Page 98 - BLAME not my Lute ! for he must sound Of this or that as liketh me ; For lack of wit the Lute is bound To give such tunes as pleaseth me ; Though my songs be somewhat strange, And speak such words as touch thy change, Blame not my Lute...
Page 176 - HIS RETURN FROM SPAIN. Tagus farewell ! that westward with thy streams Turns up the grains of gold already tried ; . .. For I with spur and sail go seek the Thames Gainward the sun that showeth her wealthy pride And to the town that Brutus sought by dreams, Like bended moon that leans her lusty side ; My king, my country alone for whom I live, Of mighty Love the winds for this me give 1 ! FROM THE SECOND SATIRE.
Page 108 - Is it possible? That so high debate, So sharp, so sore, and of such rate, Should end so soon, and was begun so late. Is it possible ? Is it possible ? So cruel intent, So hasty heat, and so soon spent, From love to hate, and thence for to relent...
Page 29 - MY lute, awake ! perform the last Labour that thou and I shall waste, And end that I have now begun; For when this song is sung and past, My lute, be still, for I have done.