AUTHOR Thomas Wyatt

TITLE Satire II

RHYME a b a
RHYME-POEM a b a 

MY mother's maids, when they did sew and spin,
They sang sometime a song of the field mouse
That, for because her livelihood was but thin,

RHYME a b a
RHYME-POEM b c b 

Would needs go seek her townish sister's house.
She thought herself endured too much pain;
The stormy blasts her cave so sore did souse

RHYME a b a
RHYME-POEM c d c 

That when the furrows swimmed with the rain,
She must lie cold and wet in sorry plight;
And worse than that, bare meat there did remain

RHYME a b a
RHYME-POEM d e d 

To comfort her when she her house had dight;
Sometime a barly corn; sometime a bean,
For which she laboured hard both day and night

RHYME a b a
RHYME-POEM e f e 

In harvest time whilst she might go and glean;
And where store was 'stroyed with the flood,
Then welaway! for she undone was clean.

RHYME a b a
RHYME-POEM f g f 

Then was she fain to take instead of food
Sleep, if she might, her hunger to beguile.
     "My sister," quoth she, "hath a living good,

RHYME a b a b
RHYME-POEM g h g h 

And hence from me she dwelleth not a mile.
In cold and storm she lieth warm and dry
In bed of down, the dirt doth not defile
Her tender foot, she laboureth not as I.

TITLE A Love Song

RHYME a a b a b
RHYME-POEM a a b a b 

My lute, awake! perform the last
Labor that thou and I shall waste;
And end that I have now begun:
And when this song is sung and past,
My lute! be still, for I have done.

RHYME a a b a b
RHYME-POEM c c b c b 

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 sing, or sigh, or moan?
No, no, my lute! for I have done.

RHYME a a b a b
RHYME-POEM d d b d b 

The rock doth 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.

RHYME a a b a b
RHYME-POEM e e b e b 

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.

RHYME a a b a b
RHYME-POEM f f b f b 

Vengeance shall fall on thy disdain,
That makest but game of earnest pain;
Trow not alone under the sun
Unquit to cause thy lovers plain,
Although my lute and I have done.

RHYME a a b a b
RHYME-POEM g g b g b 

May chance thee lie withered and old
In 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.

RHYME a a b a b
RHYME-POEM h h b h b 

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.

RHYME a a b a b
RHYME-POEM a a b a b 

Now cease, my lute! This is the last
Labor that thou and I shall waste;
And ended is that we begun:
Now is thy song both sung and past;
My lute, be still, for I have done.

TITLE Since So Ye Please

RHYME a b a b
RHYME-POEM a b a b 

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.

RHYME a b a b
RHYME-POEM b c b c 

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.

RHYME a b a b

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. 

TITLE The Appeal: An Earnest Suit to his Unkind Mistress, not to Forsake him

RHYME a b b b a c
RHYME-POEM a b b b a c 

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! 

RHYME a b b b a c
RHYME-POEM a d d d a c 

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! 

RHYME a b b b a c
RHYME-POEM a e e e a c 

And wilt thou leave me thus, 
That hath given thee my heart 
Never for to depart 
Neither for pain nor smart: 
And wilt thou leave me thus? 
   Say nay! say nay! 

RHYME a b b b a c
RHYME-POEM a f f f a c 

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

TITLE The Courtier's Life

RHYME a b a b b c c

In court to serve, decked with fresh array,
Of sugared meats feeling the sweet repast;
The life in banquets and sundry kinds of play,
Amid the press of worldly looks to waste:
Hath with it joined oft times such bitter taste,
That whoso joyes such kind of life to hold,
In prison joyes, fettered with chains of gold.

TITLE They flee from me

RHYME a b a b b c c

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.

RHYME a b a b b c c

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 therewith all sweetly did me kiss
And softly said, "Dear heart, how like you this?"

RHYME a b a b b c c

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 fain sould know what she hath deserved.
