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Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503–42). The Poetical Works. 1880.


That all his Joy dependeth on his Lady’s Favour

AS power and wit will me assist,

My will shall will even as ye list.

For as ye list my will is bent

In every thing to be content,

To serve in love ’till life be spent;

So you reward my love thus meant,

Even as ye list.

To feign, or fable is not my mind,

Nor to refuse such as I find;

But as a lamb of humble kind,

Or bird in cage to be assign’d,

Even as ye list.

When all the flock is come and gone

Mine eye and heart agree’th in one,

Hath chosen you, only, alone,

To be my joy, or else my moan,

Even as ye list.

Joy, if pity appear in place;

Moan, if disdain do shew his face,

Yet crave I not as in this case,

But as ye lead to follow the trace,

Even as ye list.

Some in words much love can feign;

And some for words give words again:

Thus words for words in words remain,

And yet at last words do obtain

Even as ye list.

To crave in words I will eschew,

And love in deed I will ensue;

It is my mind both whole and true,

And for my truth I pray you rue

Even as ye list.

Dear heart! I bid your heart farewell,

With better heart than tongue can tell;

Yet take this tale, as true as gospel,

Ye may my life save or expel

Even as ye list.