Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

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

Odes

The Lover calleth on his Lute to help him bemoan his hapless Fate

AT most mischief

I suffer grief;

For of relief

Since I have none,

My Lute and I

Continually

Shall us apply

To sigh and moan.

Nought may prevail

To weep or wail;

Pity doeth fail

In you, alas!

Mourning or moan,

Complaint or none,

It is all one,

As in this case.

For cruelty,

That most can be,

Hath sovereignty

Within your heart;

Which maketh bare,

All my welfare:

Nought do ye care

How sore I smart.

No tiger’s heart

Is so pervert,

Without desert

To wreak his ire;

And you me kill

For my good will:

Lo! how I spill

For my desire!

There is no love

That can ye move,

And I can prove

None other way;

Therefore I must

Restrain my lust,

Banish my trust,

And wealth away.

Thus in mischief

I suffer grief,

For of relief

Since I have none;

My lute and I

Continually

Shall us apply

To sigh and moan.