Proud word you never spoke, but you will speak

160

Restore thy tresses to the golden ore

39

See the chariot at hand here of Love

66

71

Send home my long-stray'd eyes to me
Set me as a seal upon thine heart

Set me whereas the sun doth parch the green
Shall I come, sweet Love, to thee

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Shall I tell you whom I love

Shall I thus euer long, and be no whit the nere?
Shall I, wasting in despair

She dwelt among the untrodden ways

She walks in beauty, like the night

She was a phantom of delight

Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea

Since there's no help, come, let us kiss and part

Since Phyllis vouchsafed me a look

Sleep, angry beauty, sleep and fear not me!

So oft as I her beauty do behold

So, we'll go no more a roving

Some glory in their birth, some in their skill

II

5

57

47

84

85

146

186

172

147

49

42

136

56

176

47

218

167

73

Sweet is true love tho' given in vain, in vain

107

The face of all the world is changed, I think

196

There is a lady sweet and kind

There is no one beside thee, and no one above thee

There sits a bird on every tree

Think not of it, sweet one, so

This holy season fit to fast and pray

Those eyes that set my fancy on a fire -

Thou art not fair, for all thy red and white

Thou art returned, great Light, to that blest hour
Thou wast that all to me, love

Though I must live here, and by force
Three years she grew in sun and shower
Thrice toss these oaken ashes in the air
Thus to be lost and thus to sink and die
Tired with all these, for restful death I cry
'Tis now since I sat down before
'Tis said the rose is Love's own flower

-

Trust not, sweet soul, those curled waves of gold

Turn back, you wanton flyer

When, dearest, I but think of thee

201

39

171

58

65

199

194

182

25

64

56

106

191

90

148

180

49

109

171

141

122

81

57

161

93

65

42

III

When I have fears that I may cease to be

When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced
When I think on the happy days

When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes

183

48

146

48

Why I tie about thy wrist

17

112

150

92

Ye learned sisters which have oftentimes

Why so pale and wan, fond lover?

With how sad steps, O Moon! thou climb'st the skies!

Ye blushing virgins happy are

Ye flowery banks o' bonnie Doon

112

29

105

142

12

74

97

166

95

205

A LITTLE

BOOK OF LOVE POEMS

FORGET NOT YET

ORGET not yet the tried intent
Of such a truth as I have meant

FOR

My great travail so gladly spent,
Forget not yet!

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! oh! forget not this,
How long ago hath been and is
The mind that never meant amiss,
Forget not yet!

Forget not then thine own approved,
The which so long hath thee so loved,
Whose steadfast faith yet never moved :
Forget not yet!

SIR THOMAS WYATT