When that he saw me sitting by her side,
That of my health is very crop and root.
It pleas'd me then to have so fair a grace,
To sting the heart, that would have had my place.
TO HIS LOVE FROM WHOM HE HAD
HER GLOVES.
WHAT needs these threatening words and wasted wind?
All this cannot make me restore my prey.
To rob your good, ywis1 is not my mind:
Nor causeless your fair hand did I display.
Let Love be judge, or else whom next we find,
That may both hear what you and I can say.
She reft my heart, and I a glove from her:
Let us see then, if one be worth the other.
THE LOVER COMPLAINETH
THAT DEADLY SICKNESS CANNOT HELP HIS AFFECTION.
THE enemy of life, decayer of all kind,
That with his cold withers away the green,
This other night me in my bed did find,
And offer'd me to rid my fever clean;
And I did grant, so did despair me blind:
He drew his bow with arrow sharp and keen,
And strake the place where Love had hit before;
And drave the first dart deeper more and more.
1Ywis:' assuredly, certainly.
OF THE FEIGNED FRIEND.
RIGHT true it is, and said full yore ago;
'Take heed of him that by the back thee claweth:' For none is worse than is a friendly foe.
Though thee seem good all thing that thee delighteth, Yet know it well, that in thy bosom creepeth: For many a man such fire oft-times he kindleth, That with the blaze his beard himself he singeth.
COMPARISON OF LOVE TO A STREAM
FALLING FROM THE ALPS.
FROM these high hills as when a spring doth fall,
It trilleth down with still and subtle course,
Of this and that it gathers aye, and shall,
Till it have just down flow'd to stream, and force, Then at the foot it rageth over all:
So fareth love, when he hath ta'en a source,
Rage is his reign, resistance 'vaileth none,
The first eschew is remedy alone.
OF HIS LOVE THAT PRICKED HER
FINGER WITH A NEEDLE.
SHE sat and sew'd, that hath done me the wrong
Whereof I plain, and have done many a day:
And, whilst she heard my plaint, in piteous song
She wish'd my heart the sampler, as it lay.
The blind master, whom I have serv'd so long,
Grudging to hear that he did hear her say,
Made her own weapon do her finger bleed,
To feel if pricking were so good indeed.
WHAT man heard such cruelty before?
That, when my plaint remember'd her my woe,
That caused it, she, cruel more and more,
Wished each stitch, as she did sit and sew,
Had prick'd my heart for to increase my sore:
And, as I think, she thought it had been so:
For as she thought, 'this is his heart indeed,'
She pricked hard, and made herself to bleed.
THE LOVER THAT FLED LOVE NOW
FOLLOWS IT WITH HIS HARM.
SOMETIME I fled the fire, that me so brent,
By sea, by land, by water, and by wind;
And now the coals I follow that be quent,'
From Dover to Calais, with willing mind.
Lo! how desire is both forth sprung, and spent;
And he may see, that whilom was so blind,
And all his labour laughs he now to scorn,
Mesh'd in the briers, that erst was only torn.
THE LOVER COMPARETH HIS HEART TO THE OVERCHARGED GUN.
THE furious gun in his raging ire,
When that the bowl is rammèd in too sore, And that the flame cannot part from the fire; Cracks in sunder, and in the air do roar The shiver'd pieces. So doth my desire;
Whose flame increaseth aye from more to more; Which to let out, I dare not look, nor speak; So inward force my heart doth all-to2 break. 1'Quent:' quenched.-All-to:' altogether.
HOW BY A KISS HE FOUND BOTH HIS
LIFE AND DEATH.
NATURE, that gave the bee so feat1 a grace
To find honey of so wondrous fashion,
Hath taught the spider out of the same place
To fetch poison by strange alteration;
Though this be strange, it is a stranger case
With one kiss by secret operation
Both these at once in those your lips to find;
In change whereof I leave my heart behind.
TO HIS LOVER TO LOOK UPON HIM. ALL in thy look my life doth whole depend,
Thou hid'st thyself, and I must die therefore; But since thou mayst so easily help thy friend,
Why dost thou stick to salve that thou mad'st sore? Why do I die since thou mayst me defend?
And if I die, thy life may last no more; For each by other doth live and have relief, I in thy look, and thou most in my grief.
OF DISAPPOINTED PURPOSE BY
Or Carthage he that worthy warrior
Could overcome, but could not use his chance;
And I likewise of all my long endeavour
The sharp conquest though Fortune did advance,
Could not it use. The hold that is given over
I unpossess, so hangeth now in balance
Of war my peace, reward of all my pain,
At Mountzon thus I restless rest in Spain.
OF HIS RETURN FROM SPAIN.
TAGUS, farewell! that westward with thy streams
Turns up the grains of gold already tried;
For I with spur and sail go seek the Thames,
Gainward the sun that show'th her wealthy pride;
And to the town that Brutus sought by dreams,
Like bended moon, that leans her lusty side;
My King, my Country I seek, for whom I live:
O mighty Jove, the winds for this me give.
WYATT BEING IN PRISON, TO BRYAN.
SIGHS are my food, my drink are my tears;
Clinking of fetters would such music crave;
Stink, and close air away my life it wears;
Poor innocence is all the hope I have:
Rain, wind, or weather judge I by my ears:
Malice assaults, that righteousness should have.
Sure am I, Bryan, this wound shall heal again,
But yet, alas! the scar shall still remain.
OF SUCH AS HAD FORSAKEN HIM.
LOOK! my
fair falcon, and thy fellows all;
How well pleasant it were your liberty!
Ye not forsake me, that fair might you fall.
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.
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