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Best Famous Sir Thomas Wyatt Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Sir Thomas Wyatt poems. This is a select list of the best famous Sir Thomas Wyatt poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Sir Thomas Wyatt poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of Sir Thomas Wyatt poems.

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Written by Sir Thomas Wyatt | |

They Flee from Me

They flee from me that sometime did me seek
   With naked foot stalking in my chamber.
I have seen them gentle tame and meek That now are wild and do not remember That sometime they put themselves in danger To take bread at my hand; and now they range Busily seeking with a continual change.
Thanked be fortune, it hath been otherwise Twenty times better; but once in special, In thin array after a pleasant guise, When her loose gown from her shoulders did fall, And she me caught in her arms long and small; And therewithal sweetly did me kiss, And softly said, Dear heart, how like you this? It was no dream, I lay broad waking.
But all is turned thorough my gentleness Into a strange fashion of forsaking; And I have leave to go of her goodness And she also to use newfangleness.
But since that I so kindely am served, I would fain know what she hath deserved.


Written by Sir Thomas Wyatt | |

Avising The Bright Beams

 Avising the bright beams of these fair eyes 
Where he is that mine oft moisteth and washeth,
The wearied mind straight from the heart departeth
For to rest in his worldly paradise
And find the sweet bitter under this guise.
What webs he hath wrought well he perceiveth Whereby with himself on love he plaineth That spurreth with fire and bridleth with ice.
Thus is it in such extremity brought, In frozen thought, now and now it standeth in flame.
Twixt misery and wealth, twixt earnest and game, But few glad, and many diverse thought With sore repentance of his hardiness.
Of such a root cometh fruit fruitless.


Written by Sir Thomas Wyatt | |

I Find No Peace

 I find no peace, and all my war is done.
I fear and hope.
I burn and freeze like ice.
I fly above the wind, yet can I not arise; And nought I have, and all the world I season.
That loseth nor locketh holdeth me in prison And holdeth me not--yet can I scape no wise-- Nor letteth me live nor die at my device, And yet of death it giveth me occasion.
Without eyen I see, and without tongue I plain.
I desire to perish, and yet I ask health.
I love another, and thus I hate myself.
I feed me in sorrow and laugh in all my pain; Likewise displeaseth me both life and death, And my delight is causer of this strife.


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Written by Sir Thomas Wyatt | |

In Spain

 Tagus, farewell! that westward with thy streams 
Turns up the grains of gold already tried
With spur and sail, for I go to seek the Thames
Gainward the sun that shewth her wealthy pride, 
And to the town which Brutus sought by dreams, 
Like bended moon doth lend her lusty side.
My king, my country, alone for whome I live, Of mighty love the wings for this me give.


Written by Sir Thomas Wyatt | |

I Abide and Abide and Better Abide

 I abide and abide and better abide,
And after the old proverb, the happy day;
And ever my lady to me doth say,
'Let me alone and I will provide.
' I abide and abide and tarry the tide, And with abiding speed well ye may.
Thus do I abide I wot alway, Nother obtaining nor yet denied.
Ay me! this long abiding Seemeth to me, as who sayeth, A prolonging of a dying death, Or a refusing of a desir'd thing.
Much were it better for to be plain Than to say 'abide' and yet shall not obtain.


Written by Sir Thomas Wyatt | |

The Long Love

 The long love that in my thought doth harbour, 
And in mine heart doth keep his residence, 
Into my face presseth with bold pretence, 
And therein campeth, spreading his banner.
She that me learneth to love and suffer, And wills that my trust and lust's negligence Be reined by reason, shame, and reverence, With his hardiness taketh displeasure.
Wherewithal, unto the heart's forest he fleeth, Leaving his enterprise with pain and cry; And there him hideth, and not appeareth.
What may I do when my master feareth But in the field with him to live or die? For good is the life ending faithfully.


Written by Sir Thomas Wyatt | |

With Serving Still

 With serving still 
This I have won, 
For my goodwill 
To be undone.
And for redress Of all my pain, Disdainfulness I have again.
And for reward Of all my smart, Lo, thus unheard, I must depart.
Wherefore all ye That after shall By fortune be, As I am, thrall, Example take What I have won, Thus for her sake To be undone.


Written by Sir Thomas Wyatt | |

Whoso List to Hunt

 Whoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind, 
But as for me, helas! I may no more.
The vain travail hath worried me so sore, I am of them that furthest come behind.
Yet may I by no means, my worried mind Draw from the deer; but as she fleeth afore Fainting I follow.
I leave off therefore, Since in a net I seek to hold the wind.
Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt, As well as I, may spend his time in vain; And graven in diamonds in letters plain There is written, her fair neck round about, "Noli me tangere, for Caesar's I am, And wild to hold, though I seem tame.
"


Written by Sir Thomas Wyatt | |

And Wilt Thou Leave me Thus?

 And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay, say nay, for shame,
To save thee from the blame
Of all my grief and grame;
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay, say nay!

And wilt thou leave me thus,
That hath loved thee so long
In wealth and woe among?
And is thy heart so strong
As for to leave me thus?
Say nay, say nay!

And wilt thou leave me thus,
That hath given thee my heart
Never for to depart,
Nother for pain nor smart;
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay, say nay!

And wilt thou leave me thus
And have no more pity
Of him that loveth thee?
Hélas, thy cruelty!
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay, say nay!


Written by Sir Thomas Wyatt | |

Abide and Abide and Better Abide

 I abide and abide and better abide,
And after the old proverb, the happy day;
And ever my lady to me doth say,
"Let me alone and I will provide.
" I abide and abide and tarry the tide, And with abiding speed well ye may.
Thus do I abide I wot alway, Nother obtaining nor yet denied.
Ay me! this long abiding Seemeth to me, as who sayeth, A prolonging of a dying death, Or a refusing of a desir'd thing.
Much were it better for to be plain Than to say "abide" and yet shall not obtain.


Written by Sir Thomas Wyatt | |

Alas Madam for Stealing of a Kiss

 Alas, madam, for stealing of a kiss
Have I so much your mind there offended?
Have I then done so grievously amiss
That by no means it may be amended? 

Then revenge you, and the next way is this:
Another kiss shall have my life ended, 
For to my mouth the first my heart did suck; 
The next shall clean out of my breast it pluck.


Written by Sir Thomas Wyatt | |

Farewell Love and All Thy Laws Forever

 Farewell love and all thy laws forever;
Thy baited hooks shall tangle me no more.
Senec and Plato call me from thy lore To perfect wealth, my wit for to endeavour.
In blind error when I did persever, Thy sharp repulse, that pricketh aye so sore, Hath taught me to set in trifles no store And scape forth, since liberty is lever.
Therefore farewell; go trouble younger hearts And in me claim no more authority.
With idle youth go use thy property And thereon spend thy many brittle darts, For hitherto though I have lost all my time, Me lusteth no lenger rotten boughs to climb.


Written by Sir Thomas Wyatt | |

Forget Not Yet

 Forget not yet the tried intent 
Of such a truth as I have meant 
My great travail so gladly spent 
Forget not yet.
Forget not yet when first began The weary life ye knew, since whan The suit, the service, none tell can, Forget not yet.
Forget not yet the great assays, The cruel wrongs, the scornful ways, The painful patience in denays Forget not yet.
Forget not yet, forget not this, How long ago hath been, and is, The mind that never means amiss; Forget not yet.
Forget not yet thine own approved, The which so long hath thee so loved, Whose steadfast faith yet never moved, Forget not this.


Written by Sir Thomas Wyatt | |

My Lute Awake

 My lute awake! perform the last
Labour that thou and I shall waste,
And end that I have now begun;
For when this song is sung and past,
My lute be still, for I have done.
As to be heard where ear is none, As lead to grave in marble stone, My song may pierce her heart as soon; Should we then sigh or sing or moan? No, no, my lute, for I have done.
The rocks do not so cruelly Repulse the waves continually, As she my suit and affection; So that I am past remedy, Whereby my lute and I have done.
Proud of the spoil that thou hast got Of simple hearts thorough Love's shot, By whom, unkind, thou hast them won, Think not he hath his bow forgot, Although my lute and I have done.
Vengeance shall fall on thy disdain That makest but game on earnest pain.
Think not alone under the sun Unquit to cause thy lovers plain, Although my lute and I have done.
Perchance thee lie wethered and old The winter nights that are so cold, Plaining in vain unto the moon; Thy wishes then dare not be told; Care then who list, for I have done.
And then may chance thee to repent The time that thou hast lost and spent To cause thy lovers sigh and swoon; Then shalt thou know beauty but lent, And wish and want as I have done.
Now cease, my lute; this is the last Labour that thou and I shall waste, And ended is that we begun.
Now is this song both sung and past: My lute be still, for I have done.


Written by Sir Thomas Wyatt | |

A Revocation

 WHAT should I say? 
 --Since Faith is dead, 
And Truth away 
 From you is fled? 
 Should I be led 
 With doubleness? 
 Nay! nay! mistress.
I promised you, And you promised me, To be as true As I would be.
But since I see Your double heart, Farewell my part! Thought for to take 'Tis not my mind; But to forsake One so unkind; And as I find So will I trust.
Farewell, unjust! Can ye say nay But that you said That I alway Should be obeyed? And--thus betrayed Or that I wist! Farewell, unkist!