To the Nightingale

342

On His Having Arrived at the Age of Twenty-Three

342

SIR THOMAS WYATT

THE LOVER COMPARETH HIS STATE

TO A SHIP IN PERILOUS STORM TOSSED ON THE SEA

My galley, charged with forgetfulness,

Thorough sharp seas, in winter nights, doth pass
'Tween rock and rock; and eke mine enemy, alas,
That is my lord, steereth with cruelness;
And every oar, a thought in readiness,

As though that death were light in such a case;
An endless wind doth tear the sail apace
Of forced sighs and trusty fearfulness;
A rain of tears, a cloud of dark disdain,
Hath done the wearied cords great hinderance;
Wreathed with error and eke with ignorance,
The stars be hid that led me to this pain;
Drowned is Reason, that should me comfort;
And I remain, despairing of the port.

1557.

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;
My great travail so gladly spent
Forget not yet!

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,

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ΙΟ

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.e;

The cruel wrong, the scornful waysigs;
The painful patience in denays:

Forget not yet, forget not this,
How long ago hath been and is
The mind that never meant amiss:
Forget not yet!

Forget not, then, thine own approved,
The which so long hath thee so loved,
Whose steadfast faith yet never moved:
Forget not this!

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1557.

HE COMPLAINETH TO HIS HEART

THAT, HAVING ONCE RECOVERED HIS FREEDOM, HE HAD AGAIN BECOME

THRALL TO LOVE

Ah, my heart, what aileth thee

To set so light my liberty,

Making me bond when I was free?

Ah, my heart, what aileth thee?

When thou were rid from all distress,
Void of all pain and pensiveness,

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To choose again a new mistress,

Ah, my heart, what aileth thee?

When thou were well, thou could not hold;
To turn again, that were too bold;

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Thus to renew my sorrows old,

Ah, my heart, what aileth thee?

Thou know'st full well that but of late
I was turned out of Love's gate;
And now to guide me to this mate,
Ah, my heart, what aileth thee?

I hoped full well all had been done;
But now my hope is ta'en and won;

my torment to yield so soon,

Ah, my heart, what aileth thee?

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