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


The Lover renounces his cruel Love for ever

ALAS! the grief, and deadly woful smart,

The careful chance, shapen afore my shert,

The sorrowful tears, the sighs hot as fire,

That cruel love hath long soked from my heart!

And for reward of over great desire

Disdainful doubleness have I, for my hire.

O! lost service! O pain ill rewarded!

O! pitiful heart! with pain enlarged!

O! faithful mind! too suddenly assented!

Return, alas! sithens thou art not regarded.

Too great a proof of true faith presented,

Causeth by right such faith to be repented.

O cruel causer of undeserved change,

By great desire unconstantly to range,

Is this your way for proof of steadfastness?

Perdie! you know, the thing was not so strange,

By former proof too much my faithfulness;

What needeth then such coloured doubleness?

I have wailed thus, weeping in nightly pain,

In sobs, and sighs, alas! and all in vain,

In inward plaint, and hearts woful torment.

And yet, alas! lo! cruelty and disdain

Have set at nought a faithful true intent,

And price hath privilege truth to prevent.

But though I starve, and to my death still mourn

And piecemeal in pieces though I be torn;

And though I die, yielding my wearied ghost,

Shall never thing again make me return.

I wite thou …. of that that I have lost

To whom so ever lust for to prove most.