33. O An Epitaph MORTAL folk, you may behold and see How I lie here, sometime a mighty knight; The end of joy and all prosperitee 34. Is death at last, thorough his course and might: SIR THOMAS WYATT Forget not yet 1503-1542 The Lover Beseecheth his Mistress not to Forget his Steadfast Faith and True Intent FORGET not yet the tried intent Of such a truth as I have meant ; Forget not yet when first began The weary life ye know, since whan The suit, the service, none tell can; Forget not yet! Forget not yet the great assays, Forget not! O, forget not this!— Forget not then thine own approved, An Earnest Suit to his Unkind Mistress, not to AND wilt thou leave me thus! -To save thee from the blame And wilt thou leave me thus, And wilt thou leave me thus, Never for to depart Neither for pain nor smart: 35. grame] sorrow. 36. And wilt thou leave me thus, Of him that loveth thee? And wilt thou leave me thus? A Revocation WHAT HAT should I say? And Truth away From you is fled? Should I be led With doubleness? I promised you, And you promised me, To be as true As I would be. But since I see Your double heart, Thought for to take 'Tis not my mind; But to forsake One so unkind; So will I trust. Farewell, unjust! Can ye say nay Should be obeyed? 37. Vixi Puellis Nuper Idoneus... THE HEY flee from me that sometime did me seek, With naked foot stalking within my chamber: Once have I seen them gentle, tame, and meek, That now are wild, and do not once remember That sometime they have put themselves in danger To take bread at my hand; and now they range, Busily seeking in continual change. Thanked be fortune, it hath been otherwise Twenty times better; but once especial In thin array after a pleasant guise, When her loose gown did from her shoulders fall, And she me caught in her arms long and small, And therewithal so sweetly did me kiss, And softly said, 'Dear heart, how like you this ?' It was no dream; for I lay broad awaking: But all is turn'd now, through my gentleness, And I have leave to go of her goodness; But since that I unkindly so am servèd, you this?'-what hath she now deservèd? 38. MY To His Lute Y lute, awake! perform the last As to be heard where ear is none, My song may pierce her heart as soon: The rocks do not so cruelly As she my suit and affection; Whereby my lute and I have done. Proud of the spoil that thou hast got Vengeance shall fall on thy disdain, |