Monday, July 30, 2007

Ancient Poetry: 1503-1542: Thomas Wyatt

"The Lover Laments the Death of His Love"

The pillar perished is wherto I lent,
The strongest stay of mine unquiet mind:

The like of it no man again can finde:

From east to west still seeking though he went.

To mine unhappe for happe away hath rent,

Of all my joy the very bark and rind:

And I (alas) by chance am thus assigned

Daily to mourn till death do it relent.

But since that thus it is my destiny,

What can I more but have a woeful heart,

My pen, in plaint, my voice in carefull cry:

My mind in woe, my body full of smart.

And I my self, my self always to hate,

Till dreadful death do ease my doleful state.

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