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Sir Thomas Wyatt Short Poems

Famous Short Sir Thomas Wyatt Poems. Short poetry by famous poet Sir Thomas Wyatt. A collection of the all-time best Sir Thomas Wyatt short poems


by Sir Thomas Wyatt
 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.



by Sir Thomas Wyatt
 Lux, my fair falcon, and your fellows all, 
How well pleasant it were your liberty.
Ye not forsake me that fair might ye befall, But they that sometime liked my company, Like lice away from dead bodies they crawl.
Lo, what a proof in light adversity.
But ye, my birds, I swear by all your bells, Ye be my friends, and so be but few else.

by Sir Thomas Wyatt
 What needeth these threnning words and wasted wind?
All this cannot make me restore my prey.
To rob your good, iwis, is not my mind, Nor causeless your fair hand did I display.
Let love be judge or else whom next we meet That may both hear what you and I can say: She took from me an heart, and I a glove from her.
Let us see now if th'one be worth th'other.

by Sir Thomas Wyatt
 Since so ye please to hear me plain,
And that ye do rejoice my smart,
Me list no lenger to remain
To such as be so overthwart.
But cursed be that cruel heart Which hath procur'd a careless mind For me and mine unfeigned smart, And forceth me such faults to find.
More than too much I am assured Of thine intent, whereto to trust; A speedless proof I have endured, And now I leave it to them that lust.

by Sir Thomas Wyatt
 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.



by Sir Thomas Wyatt
 Madam, withouten many words
Once I am sure ye will or no .
.
.
And if ye will, then leave your bourds And use your wit and show it so, And with a beck ye shall me call; And if of one that burneth alway Ye have any pity at all, Answer him fair with & {.
} or nay.
If it be &, {.
} I shall be fain; If it be nay, friends as before; Ye shall another man obtain, And I mine own and yours no more.

by Sir Thomas Wyatt
 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.

by Sir Thomas Wyatt
 The furious gun in his raging ire, 
When that the bowl is rammed in too sore 
And that the flame cannot part from the fire, 
Cracketh in sunder, and in the air doth roar 
The shivered pieces; right so doth my desire, 
Whose flame increaseth from more to more, 
Which to let out I dare not look or speak; 
So now hard force my heart doth all to break.


Book: Reflection on the Important Things