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

Songs and Sonnets

The Lover’s Life compared to the Alps

LIKE unto these unmeasurable mountains

So is my painful life, the burden of ire;

For high be they, and high is my desire;

And I of tears, and they be full of fountains:

Under craggy rocks they have barren plains;

Hard thoughts in me my woful mind doth tire:

Small fruit and many leaves their tops do attire,

With small effect great trust in me remains:

The boisterous winds oft their high boughs do blast;

Hot sighs in me continually be shed:

Wild beasts in them, fierce love in me is fed;

Unmovable am I, and they steadfast.

Of singing birds they have the tune and note;

And I always plaints passing through my throat.