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Witnesses to The Devonshire Manuscript (British Library Add. MS 17492)
Contents: A B C M N P S T U W

Arundel-Harington MS

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Arundel-Harington MS c. late 16th century. The Arundel-Harington Manuscript is a verse miscellany originally comprised of 228 leaves, now 145, prepared by, or for, John Harington of Stepney and his son Sir John Harington of Kelston. 55 of the Arundel-Harington poems are attributed to Wyatt.

My hart I gaue the not to do it payne

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My hart I gaue the not to do it payne
My hart I gaue the not to do it payne
but to preserve, it was to the taken
I servid the not to be forsaken
but that I shulde be rewardid agayne
I was content thie servant to remayne
but not to be payed vnder this fasshion
no sens in the is none other reason
Displayse the not if that I do refrayne
Vnsaciate of my woe and thie desyre
Assured by crafte to excuse thie fault
but syns it please the to faine a default
ffarewell I saye parting from this fyre
ffor he that belevith bearing in hand
Plowithe in water and sowith in sand

Pacience thoughe I have not

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Pacience thoughe I have not
Pacience thoughe I have not
the thing that I requyre
I must of force god wot
forbeare my moste desyre
ffor no wayes can I fynde
to sayle agaynst the wynde
Patience do what they will
to worke me woe or spite
I shall content me still
to thinck both daye and night
To thinck and holde my peace
Syns theare is no redresse
patience without blame
ffor I offendid nought
I know they know the same
thoughe they have chaunged their thought
Was ever thought so moved
to hate that it hath loved
Patience of all mye harme
ffor fortune is my foe
Patience must be the charme
to heale me of my woe
tience without offence
Ys a paynfull patience

All women have vertues noble & excellent

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All women have vertues noble & excellent
All women have vertues noble & excellent
Whoe can prove that: they do offende
Daylye: they serve god withe good intent
Seldome: they displease theyr husbandes to their lives ende
Alwayes: to please them they doe intende
Never: in them a man shall finde shrewdnes
Commonly: suche qualityes have women more of lesse

Was neuer ffile yet half so well yfyled

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Was neuer ffile yet half so well yfyled
Was neuer ffile yet half so well yfyled
To fyle a fyle for any smythes intent
As I was made a fylinge instrument
To frame other, whyle that I was beguyled
but reason loe, hathe at my follye Smyled
And pard'ned me, syns that I me repent
Of my laste yeares, and of my tyme myspent
For youthe led me, and falsehood me mysguyded
Yet, this trust I have of great apparaununce
Syns that disceyte is aye returnable
of vearye force it is agreable
That thearwithall be done the recompence
Then guyle beguyled playnd shuld be never
And the rewarde is lytle trust for ever

Suche vayne thought as wonted to mislead me

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Suche vayne thought as wonted to mislead me
Suche vayne thought as wonted to mislead me
in desert hope by assured mone
maketh me from Companye to lyve alone
in following her whome reason bid me flee
she fleeith as fast by gentill crueltie
and after her my hart wolde faine be gone
but armed sighes my way do stopp anone
twixt hope and dread lacking my libertie
Yet as I gesse vnder disdaynfull brow
one beame of pittie is in her Clowdie Looke
whiche compforteth the mynd that earst for feare shooke
and thearwithall bolded I seeke the way how
to vtter the smartt that I suffer within
but suche it is I not how to begyn

ffansye doth know how

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ffansye doth know how
ffansye doth know how
to further my true hart
Yf fansye might avowe
with faith to take parte
But fansye is so fraile
and flytting still so faste
that faith may not prevaile
to helpp me first not laste
ffor fansye at his lust
Doth rule all but by gesse
Whearto shuld I than trust
in trouthe or stedastnes
Yet wolde I please
the fansye of her hart
that may me onlye ease
and cure my Carefull smart
Thearefore my Ladie deare
Sett ons your fantasye
to make some hope appeare
of stedfastnes remedye
ffor if he be mye frende
and vndertake mye woe
Mye greefe is at an end
Yf he contynew so
Elles fansye doth not right
As I deserve and shall
to have you day and night
to love me best of all t of all

The lyvelye sparckes that yssue from those eyes

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The lyvelye sparckes that yssue from those eyes
The lyvelye sparckes that yssue from those eyes
Agaynst the whiche ne vayleth no defence
Haue prest my hart and done it none offence
With quaking pleasure more then ons or twyse
was never man could any thing devyse
the Sonne beames to turne with so great vehemence
to dase mans sight as by their bright presence
Dased am I moche lyke vnto the guyse
of one ystreeken with dintt of lighteninge
blyndid with the stroke erring heare and theare
so call I for helpp I not when ne wheare
the paine of my fall patientlie bearinge
ffor after the blase as is no wonder
of deadly nay heare I the fearfull thonder

Thoughe I cannot your crueltie constrayne

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Thoughe I cannot your crueltie constrayne
Thoughe I cannot your crueltie constrayne
ffor mye good will to favour me agayne
thoughe my trew and faithfull love
Have no powre your hart to move
Yet rew vppon my payne
though I your thrall must evermore remayne
and for your sake my lybertie restrayne
the greattest grace that I do crave
ys that you wold vouchesave
to rew vppon my payne
Though I have not deservid to obtayne
so highe rewarde but thus to serve in vayne
thowghe I shall have no redresse
Yet of right ye can no lesse
but rew vppon mye payne
But I se well that your highe disdayne
Will no wyse graunt that I shall more attayne

Hart oppressyd with desp'rat thought

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Hart oppressyd with desp'rat thought
Hart oppressyd with desp'rat thought
yf forced ever to lament
Whiche now in me so sore hath wrought
that needes to it I must consent
Whearfore all ioy I must refuse
and crewell will thearof accuse
Yf crewell will had not bene guyde
Dispayre in me had had no place
ffor my trew meaning she well espied
and for all that wold geve no grace
thearfore all ioye I must refuse
and crewll will therof accuse
Shee well moght see and yet wolde not
and may daylye if that shee will
How paynfull is my haples lott
Ioyn'de with dispayre me for to spill
Whearby all ioye I must refuse
Sence Crewell will doth me so use

So feoble is the threde/ that dothe the burden stay

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So feoble is the threde/ that dothe the burden stay
So feoble is the threde/ that dothe the burden stay
Of mye poore lyfe in heavie plight/ that fallethe in decay
That but it hathe ells wheare/ some ayde or some succours
the ronninge spindle of my fate/ anon shall end his cource
ffor sens th'unhappie houre/ that did me to departe
ffrom my sweete weale and only hope hath staid my lif aparte
whiche dothe perswade suche wordes/ vnto my sored mynde
Mayntayne thie selfe o woful wight/ some better luck to fynde
ffor thoughe thow be depryv'd/ from thie desyred sight
Whoe can the tell if thie retourne/ be for thie more delight
Or whoe can tell thie losse/ yf thow mayste ones recover
Some pleasante howre thie woe may wrapp/ and thee defend and cover
This is the trust as yet/ that hath my life sustayned
but now alas I se it fainte/ and I by trust am trayned
The tyme dothe fleete and I perceyve/ the howres how they bend
So fast that I have scant the space/ to mark my commynge end
Westwarde the Sonne form out the easte/ dothe scantlye shew his Light
Butt in the west he hydes hym streight/ within the darke of night
and comes as fast wheare he/ began his pathe a wrye
ffrom easte to west/ from west to easte/ so dothe his iourney lye
The lyfe so short so fraile/ that mortall men lyve heare
So great a waight so heavie chardge/ the bodies that we beare
That when I thincke vppon/ the distaunce and the space
that doth so farr devyde me fro/ my deere desyred face
I know not how t'attayne/ the winges that I requyre
to Lifte my waight that I might flye/ to follow my desyre
Thus of that hope as yet/ that doth my lyf sustayne
Alas I feare and partlye feele/ full lytle dothe remayne
Eache place dothe bringe my greefe/ wheare I do not beholde
Those lovelye eyes whiche of my thoughtes/ weare wont the keyes to holde
Those thoughtes weare plesaunte sweete/ whylest I enioyed that grace
My pleasure past my present payne/ when I might well enbrace
But for because my want/ shoulde more my woe encreace
in watche and sleepe bothe day and night/ mye will dothe never ceace
That thinge to wishe whearof/ syns I did leese the sight
I never saw that thing that might/ my faithfull hart delight
th'uneasye life I leade/ dothe teache me for to meete
the fludds the Seas the Landes the Hilles/ that dothe them entermeete
Tweene me and those shyning lightes/ that wonted for to cleare
mye darked panges of Clowdie thoughtes/ as bright as Phebus spheare
It teacheth me also/ what was my pleasaunte state
The more to feele by suche recorde/ howe that my wealthe dothe bate
If suche recorde alas/ provoke th'enflamed mynde
Whiche sprange the daye that I did leave/ the best of me behynde
If love forgeat hym self/ by lengthe of absence lett
whoe did me guyde o wofull wretche/ vnto this baighted nett
Wheare dothe encreace my care/ moche better weare for me
Alas the cleare Cristall/ that bright transplendaunnt glasse
Dothe not bewraye the coulour hydd whiche vnderneithe it has
As dothe th'accombred sprite/ now thoughtfull throwes discover
Of fearce delight, of fervent love/ that in our hartes we cover
Oute by these eyes it shewethe/ that evermore delight
In playnt of teares to seeke redresse/ and eke bothe daye and night
These new kynde of pleasures/ whearin most men reioyce
To me theye do redoble still/ of stormye sighes the voyce
ffor I am one of those/ whome playnte dothe well content
It sittes me well myne absente wealthe/ me seemes for to lament
and with my teares to geve assaye/ to chardge myne eyes twayne
Lyke as my harte above the brincke/ is fraughted full of payne
And for because thearto/ of those faire eyes to treate
Do me provoke I shall retourne/ mye playnte thus to repeate
ffor theare is nothing ells/ that toucheth me so within
Wheare they rule all and I alone/ nought but the Case or sckynne
Whearfore I do returne/ to them as Well or Springe
ffrom whome discendes my mortall woe/ above all other thinge
So shall myne eyes in payne/ accompanye my harte
That weare the guydes that did it lead/ of love to feele the smarte
The Crisped golde that doth/ surmount Appolloes pryde
the lyvelye streames of pleasaunt starres/ that vnder it dothe glyde
whearein the beames of love/ dothe so encreace theyre heate
Which yet so farr touche me so neare/ in colde to make me sweate
The wyse and pleasaunt talke/ so rare or ells a lone
That gave to me the Curteist guifte/ that earste had never none
be farr from me alas/ and everye other thinge
I might forbeare with better will/ then it that did me bringe
with plesaunte worde and cheere/ redresse of lingred payne
whiche wonted ofte in kindled will/ to vertue me to trayne
Thus am I dryven to heare/ and herken after newes
Mye compforte scante my lardge desyre/ in doutfull trust renewes
And yet with more delight/ to mone mye woful cace
I must complayne those handes those armes/ that fermly do enbrace
Me, from my self, and rule the stearne of mye poore Lyfe
the sweete disdaynes the pleasaunt wrathes, and eke the lovelye strife
That wonted well to tune/ in temper iuste and meete
the rage that ofte did make me err/ by furour vndiscreete
All this is hydd me fro/ with sharppe and Craggie hills
att others will my longe abode/ my deepe dispaire fulfills
But if my hope somtyme/ rise vppe by some redresse
it stomblethe straight for feoble faynte/ my feare hath suche excesse
Suche is the sorte of hope/ the lesse for more desyre
whearbye I feare and yet I truste/ to see that I requyre
The restinge place of love/ wheare vertue lyves and growse
Wheare I desyre my wearyd life/ somtyme maye take repose
Mye songe thow shalt attayne/ to fynde that pleasaunt place
wheare shee dothe lyve by whome I Live/ maye chaunce to have this grace
when shee hathe readd and seene/ the dreede whear in I serve
Betweene her brestes she shall the put/ theare shall she thee reserve
Then tell her that I come/ shee shall me shortlye see
and yf for waighte the bodye faile/ the Sowle shall to her flye

To men that know you not

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To men that know you not
To men that know you not
you may appeare to be
full cleare and without spott
but truly vnto me
Suche is your wonted kynd
by profe so surely knowen
as I will not be blynd
myne eyes shall be myne owen
I will not wynk and see
I will not please the soe
I will not favour the
I will not be thye foe
I will not though I can
I will not shew my powre
I will be no suche man
I will not the devour
But I am he that will
See still as I have seene
your goodnes from your yll
myne eyes shall still be cleere
ffrom motes of blynding love
that leadeth men somtyme
to trust or they do prove
and fall, when they wolde clyme
I will not feele the fytt
of ioye that fooles do feele
when their chief ioye they hytt
whiche tourneth as the wheele
that lyftes them hye or low
whiche is now vpp now downe
as floodes do ebb and flow
good luck from towne to towne
Suche feavers hote and colde
suche panges of ioye and payne
suche fyttes as do them holde
and do by rages raigne
shall never sease my hart
my freedome shall excuse
that thraldom of suche smarte
synce I so well may chuse
And I indyfferent man
can see and holde my peace
by profe how well you can
begyn to love and ceace
and so by sight I shall
suffyse my self as well
as thowgh I feltt the fall
whiche they did feele that fell

Patience for mye devyse

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Patience for mye devyse
Patience for mye devyse
Impatience for your parte
Of contraries the guyse
Ys ever the overthwarte
Patience for I am true
the contrarie for you
Patience a good cause whie
you have no cause at all

She satte and Sowede that hath done me the wronge

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She satte and Sowede that hath done me the wronge
She satte and Sowede that hath done me the wronge
wheareof I playne and have done manye adaye
and whylest she herd my playnt in pituous songe
Wisshed my hart the Sampler as it lay
the blynde master whom I have servid [sd]so[/sd]long
Grudging to heare that he did heare herr saye
Made her owne weapon doe her fynger bleede
to feele if prickinge weare so good in deede

Whoe hath heard of suche crueltie before

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Whoe hath heard of suche crueltie before
Whoe hath heard of suche crueltie before
that when my playnt remembred her my woe
that cawsed it she cruell more and more
wisshed eache stiche as she did sitt and sow
Had pricked my hart for to encreace my sore
and as I thinck she thought it had bene so
ffor as she thought this is his hart in deede

Yf then I burne to playne me so

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Yf then I burne to playne me so
Yf then I burne to playne me so
what maye it avayle me
And if the harme that I suffer
be ronne to farr out of measure
to seeke for helpp any further
what may it availe me
What thoughe eache hart that heares me playne
Pitieth and playneth for mye payne
Yf I no lesse in greef remayne
what may it availe me
Yea though the want of my releef
Displease the causer of my greef
Syns I remayne still in mischeef
what may it avayle me
Suche cruell chaunce doth so me threat
Contynuallye inward to freat
Then of releace for to entreat
what may it availe me
ffortune is deafe vnto my call
Mye torment moves her not at all
and thoughe she turne as dothe a ball
what may it availe me
ffor in dispaire theare is no reede
To want of eare speeche is no speede
to lynger still a lyve as deade
what may it availe me

My hope alas hath me abused

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My hope alas hath me abused
My hope alas hath me abused
And vayne reioycinge hath me fedd
Luste and ioye have me refused
and carefull playnt is in their steed
to moche advauncing slaked my speed
myrth hath cawsed my heavynes
And I remayne all comfortles
Wheare to did I assure my thought
without displeasure stedfastlye
in fortunes fordge mye ioye was wrought
And is revolted readelye
I am mystaken wonderlye
ffor I thought nought but faithfullnes
Yet I remayne all comfortles
In gladsome cheere I did delight
till that delight did cause my smart
and all was wrong wheare I thought right
ffor right it was that my true hart
shulde not from trothe be sett a parte
Syns trothe did cause mye hardynes
Yet I remayne all comfortles
Somtyme delight did tewne my song
and lead my hart full pleasantly
and to my self I said among
mye happ is comminge hastelye
but it hath happid contrarie
Assuraunce cawseth my distresse
And I remayne all comfortles
Then if my note now doth varie
and leave his wonted pleasantnes
The heavie burden that I carrye
Hathe altred all my ioyfulnes
no pleasure hathe still stedfastnes
but haste hath hurt my happines
And I remayne all comfortles

ffarewell love and all thie Lawes for ever

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ffarewell love and all thie Lawes for ever
ffarewell love and all thie Lawes for ever
thie baited hookes shall tangle me no more
Senec and Plato call me from thie lore
to perfect wealthe my witt for to endevour
in blynd errour when I did persever
thie sharppe repulse that pricketh aye so sore
Hath taught me to sett in tryfles no store
and scape forthe syns lybertie is Lever
therefore fare well goe trouble yonger hartes
and in me clayme no mroe aucthoritie
with Idle youthe go vse thie propertie
and theare on spend thie many brittle dartes
ffor hetherto thoughe I haue loste all my tyme
me lustithe no longer rotten boughes to clyme

Eache man me tellithe I chaunge most my devise

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Eache man me tellithe I chaunge most my devise
Eache man me tellithe I chaunge most my devise
and on my faithe me thinck it good reason
To chaunge purpose lyke after the season
ffor in everye case to keepe still one guyse
ys meete for them that wold be taken wyse
and I am not of suche maner condicon
but treatid after a dyvers facion
and thearvpppon my dyversnes doth ryse
but you that blame this dyversnes most
Chaunge you no more but still after one rate
treate ye me well and kepe ye in the same state
and whyle with me dothe dwell this wearied goste
My worde now I shall not be variable
But alwaies one you owne bothe fyrme and stable

Now all of chaunge,

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Now all of chaunge
Now all of chaunge,
must be my song
and from my bownd, now must I breake
Since shee so straunge,
vnto my wronge
doth stoppe her ears, to heare me speake
yet none doth know,
so well as shee
my greif whiche can have no restrainte
that faine wold follow,
now must flye
for faute of eare, vnto my plaint
Oh ffortunes might,
that eache compells
and me the moste, it doth suffise
now for my right,
to ask nought ells
but to withdraw this enterprise
And so for gayne,
of this good howre
whiche of my woe, shall be reliefe
I shall refrayne,
by paynfull powre
the thing that moste, hath bene my griefe
And shee vniust,
that feareth not
in this her fame, to be defyl'de
yet once I trust
shall be my lott
to quyte the crafte, that me beguil'de

Myne owne I. P. sins you delight to knowe

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Myne owne I. P. sins you delight to knowe
Myne owne I. P. sins you delight to knowe
the cawse whye that homweard I do me draw
and flye the preace of Coortes whearso they go
Rather than to lyve thrall vnder the awe
of Lordlye lookes wrapped within my Cloke
to will and Lust, learning to sett a lowe
It is not because I scorne or mocke
the powre of them to whome powre hath lent
chardge over vs of right to stryke the stroke
but trew it is that I haue ever ment
Lesse to esteeme them then the common sorte
of owtward thinges that iudge in their entent
Without regarde what dothe inward resorte
I graunt somtyme that of glorye the fyre
doth touche my hart me list not to reporte
blame by honour and honour to desyre
but how may I nowe this honour attaine
to cloke the truthe for prayse without desert
of them that list all vyce for to retaine
I can not honour them that settes their parte
With Venus and Backus all their lif longe
nor holde my peace of them though that I smart
I can not crowche nor kneele to do so great a wronge
to worship them as god on earthe alone
that are as woolves theise sillie lambs among
I can not with wordes complayne and mone
vse wyles for witt and make disceate a pleasure
and call crafte Counsaile for profitt still to paynt
I can not wrest the law to fill the Cofer
with innocent bloud to feede my self fatt
and do my self hurt wheare my self I offer
I am not he that can allowe the state
of highe Cesar and dampne Cato to die
that with his death did scape out of the gate
from Cesars hands if Livie do not lye
and will not lyve wheare lybertie was lost
So did his hart the Common weale applie
I am not he suche eloquence to boste
to make the Crowe singing as the Swanne
nor call the lyon of Coward beastes the moste
that can not take a mowce as the Catt can
and he that dyeth for Hunger of the golde
call hym Alexander and say that Pan
passeth appollo in mvsyke many folde
prayse Sir Topas for a noble tale
and scorne the storye that the knight tolde
prayse hym for Counsaile that is dronck of ale
grynne when he laughes, that beareth the swaye
ffrowne when he frowneth, and grone when he is pale
on others lustes to hang both day and night and day
none of theise poyntes will ever frame in me
my witt is nawght I can not learne to waye
and moche the lesse of thinges that greatter be
that aske helpp of of Coullours to devyse
to ioyne the meane with eache extreamytie
with the nearest vertue, to cloke all way the vyce
and as to purpose lyke wyse it shall fall
to presse the vertue that it may not ryse
as droncknenes good fellowship to call
the frendly foe with his doble face
say he is gentell and curtyse there with all
and that favell hath a goodlye grace
in eloquence and creweltie to name
zeale of iustice and chaunge in tyme and place
and he that suffreth offence without blame
call hym pitifull and hym trew and playne
that raileth recklesse to every mans shame
Say he is rude that can not lye and fayne
the Lecher a lover and tyrrannye
to be the right of a Princes raigne
I can not I, nor it will not be
this is the cause that I wold never yet
hang on their sleeves that waye as thow maist see
a Chipp of chaunce more than a pound of witt
this maketh me, at home to hunt and hawke
and in fowle weather at my booke to sytt
in frost and snowe then with my bowe to stalke
no man doth marke wheare that I ryde or goe
in Lustie leases at lybertie I walke
and of these newes I feele nother weale nor woe
Save that a clogg doth hang yet still at my heele
no force for that, for it is ordered so
that I may leap both hedge and dytche full well
I am not in fraunce to iudge the wyne
what saverye sawce these delicates to feele
nor yet in spayne wheare one must hym enclyne
rather than to be outwardlye to seeme
I meddle not with wittes that be so fyne
nor flaunders cheere lettes not my wittes to dymmedeeme
of black nor whytt, nor takes my wittes awaye
With beastlynesse, the beastes so so esteeme
nor I am not wheare Chryste is geven in pray
for monye, poyson, and treason at Rome
a common plague vsed night and day
but heare I am in Kent and Christendome
among the Mvses wheare I read in Ryme
Wheare if thow list my I. P. for to come
thow shalt be iudge how I do spend my tyme./

My mothers maydes when they do Sowe and Spinne

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My mothers maydes when they do Sowe and Spinne
My mothers maydes when they do Sowe and Spinne
They sing a songe made of the fieldishe mowse
that for because her lyvelode but but thynne
woulde nedes go se her Townishe sisters howse
she thought, her self endured to greevous payne
the stormye blastes her Cave so sore did sowse
That when the furrowes swimmed with the rayne
she must lye colde and weett in sorrye plight
And wursse then that bare meat theare dyd remayne
To comfort her, when she her house had dight
Somtyme a barley Corne / somtyme a beane
ffor whiche she laboured hard bothe day and night
In harvest tyme when she might goe and gleane
And when her store was stroyed with the flood
Then well away for she vndone was cleane
Then was she fayne to take in steede of foode
Slepe yf shee cowlde her honger to beguyle
My sister (quod she) hath a lyving good
And hence from me she dwelleth not a myle

A Boke of Balettes

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A Boke of Balettes Wyatt, Sir Thomas. A Boke of Balettes. [Anon.] W. Copland, 1549.

My penne take payne a lytle space

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My penne take payne a lytle space
My penne take payne a lytle space
To folowe the thing that doth me chase
And hold my harte so sore
And when thou hast this brought to passe
My pen, I pray the write no more.
Remembre thou hast oft pleased
And my sorowes also eased
But now vnknowen I knew before
That where I trust I am deceyued
And yet my pen thou canst do no more.
A time thou haddest as other haue
To wryte which way my hope to craue
That time is past withdraw therefore
Sens we do lose let other saue
As good leaue of, and write no more.
And vse to worke an other way
Not as ye would but as ye may
For els my life is paste restore
And my desyre is my decaye
To loue in vayne who so euer shal
Of worldly payne it passeth all
As in lyke case I find wherfore
To hold so fast and yet to fall
Alak my pen now wryte no more
Syns thou hast taken payne this space
To folow that which doth the chase
And hath in holde my hert so sore
ndA now thou hast this brought to passe
My pen I pray the write no more

The fantasy of my harte

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The fantasy of my harte
The fantasy of my harte
That may me only ease,
And helpe my careful smarte
Therfore my lady dere
Let se your fantasye
To make some hope appeare
Of helpe and remedy
For if ye be my frende
And vndertake my wo
My grefe is at an ende
yf ye continew so
Els fantasy doth not ryght
As I deserue and shall
To haue her day and night
To loue me best of all

BL Additional MS

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BL Additional MS 4797 16th and 17th centuries. 138 ff. A composite manuscript with two Elizabethan poems in the first gathering of vellum leaves.

My hart I gave thee not to doe it paine

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My hart I gave thee not to doe it paine
My hart I gave thee not to doe it paine
but to preserve Loe it to the was taken
My I served the not that I sholde be foresakene
but that I soue I sould receve reward againe
I was content thy servante to remayne
and not to be repayed not this fashion
now since sinc in thee it none other reason
displease thee not if that I doe refrayne
unsatiatat of my wo and thy
Assured by craft for to excuse thy faut
but since it pleseth to find faut
farewell I saye departing from f re
for he that doththat
ploweth in the so

At lest withdraw yor creweltie

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At lest withdraw yor creweltie
At lest withdraw yor creweltie
or force the tyme, to work yor will
it is to much extremytie
to kepe me pent, in prison still
fre from all fault voyd of all cawse
withowt all right, against all lawse,
how can you vse, more crewel spight
then offer wrong, and promes right
yet cannot acuse, nor will aquit.
Aleuin monthes full, and longer space
I haue indur'd, yor deuilishe driftes
Whilst you haue sought bothe man and place
and set yor snares, with all yor shiftes
the faultles foote, to wrape with wile
in any guilt, by any gile
and how you see it will not be
how can you thus for shame agre
to kepe him bound, you ought set fre.
Yor chance was once, as myne is now
to kepe this hold, against your will
and then you sware, I know well how
thoghe now you swarue, you know how ill
but thus the world, hys course dothe passe
the priste forgat, that clarke he was
and you that then, cried iustice still
and now, haue iustice at yor will
wrest iustice wrong, against all skill
But whie do I thus coldly plain
as thoughe it wer my cawse alone
whan cawse doth eache man so constrain
as England through hath cawse to mone
to see yor bloody searche of suche
as all the erthe can no way tuche
and better wer that all yor kynd
lyk hownds in hell, with shame wer shrned
then you had myght vnto yor mynd
But as the stone that strikes the wall
some time rebounds, on th'urlers hed
so yor fowll fetche to yor fowll fall
may torn and noy the brest it bred
and than such mesure as you gaue
of right and iustice looke to haue
If good or euill, life short or long
if false or trew, yf right or wrong
and thus till then, I end my song.

evyn as you lyst my wyll ys bent

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evyn as you lyst my wyll ys bent
evyn as you lyst my wyll ys bent
yn every thynge to be content
to serue yn loue tyll lyf be spent
& to reward my loue yn contynent even as you lyst
to fayn or fabble ys not my mynd
nor to refuse suche as y fynd
but even as a lambe humbull & kynd
or byrd yn cage to be assynd even as you lyst
when all the folke ys com & gon
my Ioye & hart agreeth yn one
& hath chosen you only alone
to be my Ioye or ells my mon even as you lyst
yf pyte appeyr yn hes plas
or yf dysdayn shew hes fas
yet craue y nothyng yn this cas
but as you lyst to folow the tras even as you lyst
some yn wordes mwche loue doth fayne
& some for wordes gyue wordes a gayne
thys wordes for wordes yn wordes remayn
& yet at last wordes dow obtayne even as ye lyst
to crave yn wordes y woll eschewe
& loue yn dede y woll ensue
wythe the my hole hart faythfull & trew
& of my trewth y pray you rew even as you lyst
der hart y bed you now fawrwell
with as good hart as tong can tell
thys tall take trew as the gospell
my lyf ye may both saue & spylle even as you lyst

The wandring gadling in the somer tyde

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The wandring gadling in the somer tyde
The wandring gadling in the somer tyde
that fyndes the adder with his retchles fote
startes not dysmayde so sodenly a syde
as did gelosy tho ther were no boote
when that he saw me sitting by her side
that of my health ys very cropp and roote
yt pleased me to have so faire a grace
to styng the wight that wold have had my place.

Venemus thorns that be both sharpe and keene

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Venemus thorns that be both sharpe and keene
Venemus thorns that be both sharpe and keene
beare somtymes flowers fayre and fresh of hew
and poyson ofte ys put in medycine
and cawseth helth in man for to renew
the fier eke that all consumeth cleene
may holp and hurt and yf that this betrew
I trust somtyme my harme may be my helth
syns every woe is ioyned with somme welth.

I am not dead although I had a fall

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I am not dead although I had a fall
I am not dead although I had a fall
the sonn returns that was hid vnder clowde
and whan fortune hath spytt owt all her gall
I trust good luck shalbe to me allowde
for I haue seen a shipp into the haven fall
when storme hath broke both mast & also shrowde
and eke the willow that stowpith with the winde
doth ryse againe and greater wood doth bynde

I finde no peace and all my war is donne

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I finde no peace and all my war is donne
I finde no peace and all my war is donne
I feare and hope I burn an frese like yse
I flye above the wind yet can not ryse
and nowght I haue yet all the world I season
that loose the / nor locketh holdes me in prison
and holde me not yet can I escape no wise
nor letes me live nor dye at my device
and yet of death it gevethe none occasion
without eye I see and without tong I playn
I desire to perishe and yet aske I helth
I love another and yet I have my self
I feed in sorow and lawgh in all my paine
likewise pleaseth me bothe death and lyfe
and my delight is causer of my gryef

Myne owne I. P. sins you delite to knowe

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Myne owne I. P. sins you delite to knowe
Myne owne I. I. P. sins you delite to knowe
the cawse whie that whomeward I do me drawe
and flee the prese of courtes wherso they goe
Rather than to liue thralle vnder the awe
of lordely lokes wrapped within my cloke
to will and lust, learning to set a lowe
It is not because I scorne or mocke
the power of them to whom fortune hath lent
charg ouer us of right to strike the stroke
but trew it is that I haue allwaies ment
lesse to esteme them than the common sorte
of owtward things that iudge in theire intent
with owt regarde what dothe inward resorte
I graunt sumtime that of glory the fier
doth touch my hart melist not to reporte
blame by honor and honor to desier
but how may I now this honor assaigne
to cloke the truth for praise without desart
of them that list all uice for to retaine
I cannot honor them that settes their parte
with venus and Backus all their life long,
nor hold my pease of theim though that I smarte;
I cannot crouch, nor kneale to do so great a wrong
to worship theim lyke god on earth alone;
that ar as wolues theise sillie lambes among
I cannot with wourdes complain and mone,
vse wiles for wit and make disceite a pleasure
and call craft, counsaile, for profitte still to paint,
I cannnot wrest the law to fill the coffer
with innocent bloode to feade my selfe fat
and do most hurt where my selfe I offer:
I am not he that can allowe the state
of high Cesar and dampne Cato to die
that with his death did scape out of the gate
from Cesars handes (if Liuie doth not lie.)
and willwould not liue where libertie was lost
so did his hart the comon weale applie
I am not he sutche eloquens to bost
to make the crowe singing as the swanne,
nor calle the lion of coward of beastes the most,
that cannot take a mouce as the cat can;
and he that dieth for hunger of the golde
call him Alexander, and say that Pan
passeth Appollo in musicke manyfold;
praise Sir Topias for a noble taile,
and scorne the the story that the knight told
praise him for counsaile that is dronke asale of ale;
grynne when he laughes, that beareth the sway,
froune, when he frouneth, and grone when heis pale,
on others lustes to hang both day and night,
none of these points will euer frame in me:
my wit is naught I cannot learne to way
and mutch the lesse of things that greater bee;
that aske helpe of colours to deuise
to ioyne the meane with each extremitie
with the nearest uertue to cloke alway the vice,
and as to purpose like wise it shall fall
to presse the uertue that it may not rise,
as dronkennes good fellowship to call,
the frendly foe with his dowble face,
say he is gentle snd curteis therwithall,
and that fauell hath a goodly grace
In eloquens, and crueltie to name
Zeale of iustice, and chang in tyme and place,
and he that suffreth offence without blame
call him pitifull, and him trewe and plaine
that rayleth recklis to euery mans shame;
say he is rude that cannot lye and faine,
the lethcer a louer, and tirranye
to be the right of a Princes raigne
I cannot I no nor yet will not be:
this is the cause that I wold neuer yet
hang on theire sleues, that way as thou mayst see
a chip of chaunce more than a pound of witt:
This maketh me at whome to hunt and hauke,
and in foule wether at my boke to sit
In frost and snowe then with my bowe to stalke;
no man doth marke where that i ride or goe;
In lustie leases at lybertie I walke
and of these newes I feale nether well nor woo,
saue that a clogge doth hang yet at my heale,
noforce for that, for it is ordered soe,
that I may leape bothe hedge and diche full well:
I am not in fraunce to iudg the wine
what sauerie sauce theise delicates to fele;
not yet in spaine where one must him encline;
rather than to be outwardly to seame,
I meddle not with wittes that be so fine;
nor flaunders chere letts nat my sight to dime
of blacke nor white, nor takes my wittes away
with beastlynes the beastes do so esteame:
nor I am not wher Christ is geuen in pray
for monye, poyson and treason at Rome,
a comon place vsed night and day:
but heare I am in kent, and Christendome,
among the muses wheare I read and rime,
wher yf thou list my I.P. for to cume
thow shalt be iudge how I do spend my time.

BL Egerton MS

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BL Egerton MS 2,711 c. 1550. This manuscript is a collection of 123 poems, of which one is copied twice, entered before 1558. Nineteen were added in Elizabethan hands. Twenty-five poems and corrections in three others are in Sir Thomas Wyatt’s hand. One poem and some revisions of Wyatt’s poems are in Nicholas Grimald’s hand from c. 1549. Seventy-three of the entries from before 1558 are signed with “TV,” “VT,” or “Tho,” possibly in Wyatt’s hand. A sixteenth century hand has signed fifteen other poems with “Wyatt.” The MS, without Grimald’s additions, was copied for and partly by Wyatt before 1542 as a collection of Wyatt’s poems.

Alas the greeffe, and dedly wofull smart

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Alas the greeffe, and dedly wofull smart
Alas the greeffe, and dedly wofull smart:
O cruell causer of vndeserued chaunge:
by great desire vnconstantly to raunge:
is this your waye, for proofe of stedfastenes
(perdye you knowe : the thing was not so straunge
by former prouff) to muche my faithfulnes
what nedeth, then, suche coloured dowblenes.
I have wailed, thus, weping in nyghtly payn:
in sobbis, & sighes : Alas : & all in vayn:
in inward plaint : & hertes wofull torment.
and yet, Alas, lo, crueltie, & disdayn
have, set at noght a faithfull true intent:
and price hath priuilege thouth to prevent.
But, though I sterve : & to my deth still morne:
and pece mele in peces though I be torn:
and though I dye, yelding my weried gooste:
shall never thing again make me retorn
I qwite thenterprise of that, that I have lost
too whome so ever lust for too proffer moost.

My lute awake perfourme the last

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My lute awake perfourme the last
My lute awake perfourme the last
labour that thou and I shall wast
and end that I have now begon
for when this song is song & past
my lute be still for I have done
As to be herd where ere is none
as lede to grave in marbill stone
my song may perse her hert so as sone
should we then sigh or syng or mone
no no my lute for I have done
The Rokke do not so cruelly
repulse the waves continuelly
as she my suyte & affection
so that I ame past remedy
whereby my lute & I have done
Prowd of the spoyle that thou hast gott
of simple hertes thorough loves shot
by whome vnkynd thou hast theim wone
thinck not he haith his bow forgot
all tho my lute & I have done
Vengeaunce shall fall on thy disdain
that makest but game on ernest pain
thinck not alone vnder the sonne
vnquyt to cause thy lovers plain
all tho my lute and I have done
Perchaunce they lay the lye wetherd & old
the wynter nyght that are so cold
playnyng in vain vnto the mone
thy wisshes then dare not be told
care then who lyst for I have done
And then may chaunce the to repent
the tyme that thou hast lost and spent
to cause they lovers sigh & swoune
then shalt thou knowe beaultie but lent
and wisshe and want as I have done
Now cesse my lute this is the last
labour that thou & I shall wast
and ended is that we begon
now is this song boeth song & past
my lute be still for I have done

My hert I gave the not to do it payn

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My hert I gave the not to do it payn
My hert I gave the not to do it payn
but to preserue it was to the taken
I serued the not to be forsaken
but that I should be rewarded again
I was content thy serunt to remayn
but not to be payed vnder this fasshion
nowe syns in the is none othee reason
displease the not if that I do refrain
vnsaciat of my woo and thy desire
assured be craft to excuse thy fault
but syns it please thy to fain a default
farewell I say parting from the fyer
for he that beleveth bering in hand
weth in the sand

Yf I had suffered this to you vnware

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Yf I had suffered this to you vnware
Yf I had suffered this to you vnware
myn were the fawte & you nothing to blame
but syns you know my woo & all my care
why do I dy alas for shame for shame
I know right well my face my lowke my teeres
myn Iyes my wordes & eke my drery chiere
have cryd my deth full oft vnto your eres
herd of belefe it doeth appere: appere
A better prouff I se that ye would have
how I ame dede therefore when ye here tell
beleveit not all tho ye se my grave
cruell vnknynd I say farewell : farewell

At moost myschief

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At moost myschief
At moost myschief
I suffre greif
for of relief
syns I have none
My lute & I
continuelly
shall vs apply
to sigh & mone
Nought may prevaill
to wepe or waill
pitie doeth faill
in you Alas
Morning or mone
complaint or none
it is all one
as in this case
ffor crueltie
moost that can be
hath soveraynte
within your hert
Which maketh bare
all my welfare
nought do ye care
how sore I smart

Patience though I have not

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Patience though I have not
Patience though I have not
the thing that I require
I must of force god wot
forbere my moost desire
for no ways cannot I fynde
to saile against the wynde
Patience do what they will
to worke me woo or spite
I shall content me still
to thyncke boeth daye & nyte
to thyncke and hold my peace
syns there is no redresse
Patience withouten blame
for I offended nought
I knowe they knowe thesame
though they have chaunged their thought
was ever thought so moved
to hateh that it haith loved
Patience of all my harme
for fortune is my foo
patience must be the charme
to hele me of my woo
patience withoute offence
is a painfull patience

Marvaill no more all tho

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Marvaill no more all tho
Marvaill no more all tho
the songes I syng do mone
for othre liff then wo
I never proved none
And in my hert also
is graven with lres diepe
a thousand sighes & mo
a flod of teeres to wepe
How may a man in smart
fynde matter to reIoyse
how may a morning hert
set fourth a plesaunt voise
Play who that can that part
nedes must in me appere
how fortune overthwart
doeth cause my morning chere
Perdy there is no man
if he never sawe sight
that perfaictly tell can
the nature of the light
Alas how should I then
that never tasted but sowre
but do as I began
continuelly to lowre
But yet perchaunce som chance
may chaunce to chaunge my tune
and when suche chaunce doeth chaunce
then shall I thanck fortune
And if I have souche chaunce
perchaunce ere it be long
for suche pleasaunt chaunce
to syng som plaisaunt song

What no perdy ye may be sure

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What no perdy ye may be sure
What no perdy ye may be sure
thinck not to make me to your lure
with wordes and chere so contrarieng
swete and sowre contrewaing
to much it were still to endure
trouth is tryed where craft is in vre
but though ye have haved my hertes cure
trow ye I dote withoute ending
What no perdy
Though that with pain I do procure
for to forgett that ons was pure
within my hert shall still that thing
vnstable vnsure and wavring
be in my mynde withoute recure
What no perdye

There was never ffile half so well filed

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There was never ffile half so well filed
There was never ffile half so well filed
to file a file for everyany smythes intent
as I was made a filing instrument
to frame othres while I was begiled
But reason hath at my follie smyled
and pardond me syns that I me repent
of my lost yeres & tyme myspent
for yeuth did me lede & falshode guyded
Yet this trust I have of full great aparaunce
syns that decept is ay retourneable
of very force it is aggreable
that therewithall be done the recompence
then gile begiled plained should be never
and the reward litle trust for ever

A Robyn Ioly Robyn tell me how thy leman doeth and thou shall knowe of myn

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A Robyn Ioly Robyn tell me how thy leman doeth and thou shall knowe of myn
A Robyn/ Ioly Robyn/ tell me how thy leman doeth/ and thou shall knowe of myn
My lady is vnkynd perde
alack whi is she so
she loveth an othre better then me
and yet she will say no
Responce
I fynde no suche doublenes
I fynde women true
my lady loveth me dowtles
and will chaunge for no newe
le plaintif
Thou art happy while that doeth last
but I say as I fynd
that womens love is but a blast
and torneth lik the wynde
Responce
Suche folkes shall take no harme by love
that can abide their torn
But I alas can no way prove
in love but lake & morn
le plaintif
But if thou wilt avoyde thy harme
lerne this lessen of me
in othre fieres thy self to warme
and let theim warme with the

Suche vayn thought as wonted to myslede me

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Suche vayn thought as wonted to myslede me
Suche vayn thought as wonted to myslede me
in desert hope by well assured mone
maketh me from compayne to live alone
in folowing her whome reason bid me fle
She fleith as fast by gentill crueltie
and after her myn hert would fain be gone
but armed sighes my way do stoppe anon
twixt hope & drede lacking my lib libertie
Yet as I gesse vnder that scornefulldisdaynfull browe
one beame of pitie is in her clowdy loke
which comforteth the mynde that erst for fere shoke
And therewithall bolded I seke the way how
to vtter the smert that I suffre within
but suche it is I not how to begyn

If fansy would favour

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If fansy would favour
If fansy would favour
as my deseruing shall
my love my paramour
should love me best of all
But if I cannot attain
the grace that I desir
then may I well complain
my seruice & my hier
ffansy doeth knowe how
to fourther my trew hert
if fansy myght avowe
with faith to take part
But fansy is so fraill
and flitting still so fast
that faith may not prevaill
to helpe me furst nor last
ffor fansy at his lust
doeth rule all but by gesse
whereto should I then trust
in trouth or stedfastnes
Yet gladdely would I please
the fansy of her hert
that may me onely ease
and cure my carefull smart
Therefore my lady dere
set ons your fantasy
to make som hope appere
off stedfastnes remedy
ffor if he be my frend
and vndertake my woo
my greif is at an ende
if he continue so
Elles fansy deth not right
as I deserue and shall
to have you daye & nyght
to love me best of all

The wandering gadlyng in the sommer tyde /

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The wandering gadlyng in the sommer tyde
The wandering gadlyng in the sommer tyde /
that fyndes the Adder / with his recheles fote /
startes not dismayde, so soudenly a side /
as Ialous dispite did : tho there ware no bote /
when that he sawe me : sitting by her side
that of my helth / is very croppe & rote.
it pleased me then to have so fair a grace /
to styng that hert that would have my place.

The lyvely sperkes that issue from those Iyes

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The lyvely sperkes that issue from those Iyes
The lyvely sperkes that issue from those Iyes
against the which ne vaileth no defence
have prest myn hert : and done it none offence
with qwaking pleasure more then ons or twise
Was never man could any thing devise
the sonne bemes to torn wtih so great vehemence
to dase mans sight as by their bright presence
dased ame I muche like vnto the gyse
Of one I stricken with dynt of lightening
blynded with the stroke / erryng here & there
so call I for helpe : I not when ne where
The pain of my fals patiently bering
for after the blase / as is no wounder
of dedly nay here I : the ferefull thounder

Tho I cannot your crueltie constrain

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Tho I cannot your crueltie constrain
Tho I cannot your crueltie constrain
for my good will to favour me again
tho my true & faithfull love
have no power your hert to move
yet rew vpon my pain
Tho I your thrall must evermore remain
and for your sake my libertie restrain
the greatest grace that I do crave
is that ye would vouchesave
to rew vpon my pain
Tho I have not deserued to obtain
so high Reward but thus to serue in vain
tho I shall have no redresse
yet of right ye can no lesse
but rew vpon my pain
but I se well that your high disdain
wull no wise graunt that I shall more attain
yet ye must graunt at the lest
this my poure and small request
to rew vponreioyse not at my pain

Some tyme I fled the fyre that me brent /

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Some tyme I fled the fyre that me brent
Some tyme I fled the fyre that me brent /
by hillessee by land dales: by water and by wynd.
and now I folow the coles that be quent /
from Dovour to Calais against my mynde.
Lo how desire is boeth sprong & spent /
and he may se that whilome was so blynd.
and all his laborur now he laugh to scorne /
mashed in the breers that erst was all to torne

What deth is worse then this

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What deth is worse then this
What deth is worse then this
when my delight
my wordlywele my Ioye & my blys
is from my sight
boeth daye & nyght
my liff alas I mys
ffor though I seme alyve
my hert is hens
thus botles for to stryve
oute of presens
of my defens
towerd my deth I dryve
Hertles alas what man
may long endure
Alas how lyve I then
syns no recure
may me assure
my liff I may well ban
Thus doeth my torment gro
in dedly dred
alas who myght lyve so
alyve as deed
alyve to lede
a dedly lyff in woo

So feble is the threde that dothe the burden stay

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So feble is the threde that dothe the burden stay
So feble is the threde that dothe the burden stay
of my pore lyff In syhevy plyght that fallythe with his syin dekay
that but it have frome elles where somesome aide or some socours
the runyng spyndell off my fate anon shall end his cours.
ffore sins thunhappy howre that did me to depart
from my swete wele one only hope hathe heldstaide my lyff apart.
Thatwych doth perswade with suche likesuch wordes vnto my wofullsory mynd.
mayntene thy sellff o wofull spryte sone better luke to fynd
ffor tho thou be depryffd from thy desyerd syght
who can the tell iff thi retorne be for thy most delyght
or who can tell / thy losse if thou maist ons maist recover:
some plesant howre thy wo may wrape and the defend & cover.
this is the trust that yet hath my lyff sustaynid
and now alas I se it faint and I by trust ame trainid.
the tyme doth passeflete and I perceyve thowrs how thei bend
so fast alas that that I have skant the space to marke my comyng end.
westward the sonne from owt thest skant doth shew his lyght
when in the west he hyds hym sellffstraite with in the darke of nyght
and cons agayneas fast where he / began his path a wrye
from est to west to est from west to thest so dothe his vgeIornei ly
the lyff so short so fraile that mortall men lyve here
so gret a whaite so hevy charge the body that we bere
that when I thinke apon the distance and the space
that doth so ferr devid not from my dere desird face
I know not how tattayne the wynges that I require
to lyfft my whaite that it myght fle to folow my desyre
thtusus off that hope that doth my lyff some thing sustayne
alas I fere and partly fele full litill doth remayne
Eche place doth bryng me grieff where I do not behold
those lyvely Iyes thatwich off my thowghtes were wont the kays to hold
those thowghtes were plesaunt swete / whilst I enioyd that grace
my plesure past / my present payne / thatwher I myght well embrace
But for becawse my want shold more my wo encresse
In wache in slepe both day and nyght my will doth neuer cesse
that thing to wishe wheroff / sins I did lese the syght
I neuer saw the thing that myght my faytfull hert delyght
thvnsesy lyff I lede doth teche me for to mete
the flowdes the sees the land and hilles that doth them entremete
twene me and those shining lyghtes that wontyd to clere
my darke panges off clowdy thowghtes as bryght as phebus spe
It techithe me also to know what was my plesant state
the more to fele by suche record how that my welth doth bate.
if such record alas provoke thenenflamid my mynd
thatwiche sprang that day that I did leve the best of me behynd
if love forgett hym sellff by length of absence let
who doth me guyd o wofull wreche vnto this baytid net
where doth encresse my care? muche better were for me
as dome as stone to think on nowght andall thing forgott still absent for to be.
alas the Clere Crystall the bryght transparant glas
doth not declarebewray the colour hyd wich vnder nethit has
as doth thaccomberd sprite thowghtfull throws discover
off fiers delyght off fervent love that in our hertes we cover
owt by thes Iyes it shewth that euer more delyght
In plaint & teres to seke redresse seke& that bothe day & nyght
Thes new kyndes off plesurs wherein allmost men reioyse
to me thei do redowble still off stormye syghes the voyce
ffor I ame one off them whom plaint dothe well content
it sittes me well / myn absent welth / me seems me to lament
and with my teris for to' assay to charge myn Iyes tweyne
sins thatlyke as myn hert on euer above the brink is frawtid full of pa
And forby cawse therto / off those fayre Iyes to trete
do me provoke / I shall retorne / my plaint thus to repete
ffor there is nothing elles that towches me so with in
where thei rule all and I alone nowght but the cace or skyn.
wherfore I do retorne / to them as well or spryng
from whom decendes my mortall wo above all other thing.
So shall myn Iyes in payne accopagnie min hert
that were the guydes that did it lede of love to fele the smart.
The cryspid gold that doth sormount Apollos pryd
the lyvely strenes of plesaunt sterres that vnder it doth glyd
where in the bemes off love doth still encresse theire hete
wiche yet so farre towche me so nere in cold to make me swet
The wise and plesaunt talk so rare or elles alone
that did me gyve the courtese gyfft that erstsuche had neuer none
arbe ferre from me alas / and euery other thing
I myght forbere with better will then that that did me bryng
with plesant word & chere redresse off all mylingerd payne
and wontyd offt within kendlid will into vertu me to trayne.
thus ame I dryven to here / and herken affter news
my confort skant my large desire in dowtfull trust renews
And yet with more delyght to playnemone my wofull cace
I must complaine those handes those armes that fermely do embrace
Me from my sellff / and rule / the sterne of my pore lyff
the swete disdaynes / the plesant wrathes & eke the lovely stryff
that wontid offtwell to tune / in tempre Iust and mete
the rage that offt did make me erre / by furour vndiscrete
all this is hid me fro / with sharp and cragyd hilles
my faintyng hopeat other ill will / my brytill lyfflong abode / willingmy diepe dispaire ful
but if my hope somtyme ryse vp by some redresse
it stumblithe straite / for feble faint / my fere hathe such
suche is the feresort off hope / the lesse for more desyre
wherby I fere and yet I trust to se that I requyre
The restyng place of love / where vertu lyves and grose
where I desire my wery lyff also may all sometyme take repose
My song you shalt ataine / to fynd that plesant place
where she doth lyve / by whome I lyve / permaychaunce she the hthis grace
when she hath red and sene the dred wherein I sterve
by twene her brestes she shall the put there shall she thee reserve
Then saytell her that I come for here I may not taryshe shall me shortly se
yff that for whayte the body fayle mythis sowle shall to h

Goo burnyng sighes Vnto the frosen hert

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Goo burnyng sighes Vnto the frosen hert
Goo burnyng sighes Vnto the frosen hert
goo breke the Ise withwhiche pites paynfull dert
myght never perse and if mortall prayer
in hevyn may be herd at lest I desir
that deth or mercy be ende of my smert
Take with the payn wherof I have my part
and eke the flame from which I cannot stert
and leve me then in rest I you require
Goo burning sighes
I must goo worke I se by craft & art
for trueth & faith in her is laide apart
Alas I cannot therefor assaill her
with pitefull plaint & scalding fyer
that oute of my brest doeth straynably stert
Goo burning sighes

To cause accord or to aggre

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To cause accord or to aggre
To cause accord or to aggre
two contraries in oon degre
and in oon poynct as semeth me
to all mans wit / it cannot be
it is impossible
Of hete and cold when I complain
and say that hete doeth cause my pain
when cold doeth shake my every vain
and boeth at ons I say again
it is impossible
That man that hath his hert away
if lyff lyveth there as men do say
that he hertles should last on day
a lyve & not to torn to clay
it is impossible
Twixt lyff and deth say what who saeyth
there lyveth no lyff that draweth breth
they Ioyne so nere & eke I feith
to seke for liff by wissh of deth
it is impossible
Yet love that all thing doeth subdue
whose power ther may no liff eschew
hath wrought in me that I may rew
these miracles to be so true
that are impossible

Beholde, love, thy power how shee dispiseth

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Beholde, love, thy power how shee dispiseth
Beholde, love looue, thy power how shee dispiseth:
My great payne how litle shee regardeth.
the holy oth, wherof she takes takes no cure:
broken shee hath : and yet, shee bideth sure,
Right at her ease : litle shee thee dredeth.
Wepened thou art: and shee vnarmed sitteth:
Too thee disdaynfull, all / her liffe shee ledeth:
Too mee spitefull, withoute cause, or mesure.
Beholde, love: looue:
I ame in holde: if pitie thee meveth
goo, bend thy bowe: that stony herte breketh:
And, with some stroke, revenge the displeasure
of thee & him: that sorrowe doeth endure:
And, as his lorde, / thee lowely ,/ here entreath entreateth.
Beholde, love. looue.

Thou hast no faith of him that hath none

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Thou hast no faith of him that hath none
Thou hast no faith of him that hath none
but thou must love him nedes by reason
for as saieth a proverbe notable
eche thing seketh his semblable
and thou hast thyn of thy conditions
yet is it not the thing I passe on
nor hote nor cold ofis myn affection
for syns thyn hert is so mutable
thou hast no faith
I thought the true / withoute exception
but I perceve I lacked discretion
to fasshion faith to wordes mutable
thy thought is to light & variable
to chaunge so oft withoute occasion
Thou hast no faith

They fle from me / that sometyme did me seke

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They fle from me / that sometyme did me seke
They fle from me / that sometyme did me seke
with naked fote stalking in my chambre
I have sene theim gentill tame and meke
that nowe are wyld and do not remembre
that sometyme they put theimself in daunger
to take bred at my hand & nowe they raunge
besely seking with a continuell chaunge
Thancked be fortune it hath ben othrewise
twenty tymes better but ons in speciall
in thyn arraye after a pleasaunt gyse
when her lose gowne from her shoulders did fall
and she me caught in her armes long & small
therewithall swetely did me kysse
and softely saide dere hert howe like you this
It was no dreme I lay brode waking
but all is torned thorough my gentilnes
into a straunge fasshion of forsaking
and I have leve to goo of her goodenes
and she also to vse new fangilnes
but syns that I so kyndely ame serued
I would fain knowe what she hath deserued

Caesar, when that the traytour of Egipt

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Caesar, when that the traytour of Egipt
Caesar, when that the traytour of Egipt
with thonourable hed, did him present:
covering his gladnes: did represent
playnt, with his teeres /owteward: as it is writt
and, Hannyball, eek, when fortune him shitt
cleene from his reign: & from all his intent:
laught to his folke, / whome sorrowe did torment:
his cruelle dispite / for too disgorge, & qwite.
so, chaunceth it oft: that every passion
the mynde hideth, by coolour contrary:
with fayned visage, now sad, now mery.
whereby, if I laught, any tyme, or season:
it is: for bicause I have not hernother waye,
too cloke my care: but, vnder sporrt, & playe.

If chaunce assynd

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If chaunce assynd
If chaunce assynd
were to my mynde
by very kynd
of destyne
yet would I crave
nought els to have
but liff & libertie
Then were I sure
I myght endure
the displeasure
of crueltie
where now I plain
alas in vain
lacking my liff for libertie
ffor withoute thone
thothre is gone
and there can none
it remedy
if thone be past
thothre doeth wast
and all for lack of libertie
And so I dryve
as yet alyve
all tho I stryve
with myserie
drawing my breth
lowking for deth
& losse of liffe for libertie
But thou that still
maist at thy will
torn all this ill
aduersitie
for ye repare
of my welfare
graunt me but liff & libertie
And if not so
then let all goo
to wretched woo
and let me dye
for thone or thothre
there is none othre
my deth or liff with libertie

Paciens for my devise

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Paciens for my devise
Paciens for my devise
Impaciens for your part
of contraries the gyse
is ever the overthwart
paciens for I ame true
the contrary for yew
Paciens a good cause why
you have no cause at all
therefore your standeth awry
perchaunce sometyme to fall
paciens then take him vp
and drynck of patiens Cupp
Pacience no force for that
but brusshe your gowne again
pacience spurne not therat
let no man knowe your payne
pacience evyn at my pleasure
when your is owte of mesure
Thothr was for me
this patience is for you
chaunge when ye list let se
for I have taken a new
pacience with a good will
is easy to fulfill

I have sought long with stedfastnes

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I have sought long with stedfastnes
I have sought long with stedfastnes
to have had som ease of my great smert
but nought availleth faithfulnes
to grave within your stony hert
But happe and hit or els hit not
as vncertain as is the wynde
right so it fareth by the shott
of love alas that is so blynd
Therefore I plaid the foole invain
with pitie when I first began
your cruell hert for to constrain
syns love regardeth no doulfull man
But of your goodenes all your mynde
is that I should complain invain
this is the favour that I fynde
ye list to here how I can plain
But tho I plain to please your hert
trust me I trust to temper it so
not for to care which do revert
all shalbe oon in welth or woo
ffor fansy rueleth tho right say nay
even as the goodeman kyst his kowe
none othre reason can ye lay

Nature, that gave the bee so feet a grase,

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Nature, that gave the bee so feet a grase
Nature, that favce gave the bee so feet a grase,/
to getfynd hony of so wonderous fashion:/
hath taught the spider owte of thesame plasce,
to fetche poyson, by straynge alteration.
tho this be straynger /, it is a straynger case,/
with oon kyssse by secret operation /,
boeth these at ons /, in those your lippes to fynde /
in chaunge whereof, I leve my hert behinde.

To wisshe and want and not obtain

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To wisshe and want and not obtain
To wisshe and want and not obtain
to seke & sew ease of my pain
syns all that ever I do is vain
What may it availl me
All tho I styrve boeth day & howre
against the streme with all my powre
if fortune list for to lowre
What may it availl me
If willingly I suffre woo
if from the fyre me list not goo
if then I burn to plaine me so
What may it availl me
And if the harme that I suffre
be run to farre owte of mesur
to seke for helpe any further
What may it availl me
What tho eche hert that hereth me plain
pitieth and plaineth for my payn
if I no les in greif remain
What may it availl me
Ye tho the want of my relief
Displease the causer of my greif
syns that I remain still in myschief
What may it availl me
Suche cruell chaunce doeth so me threte
continuelly inward to fret
then of relesse for to trete
What may it availl me
ffortune is deiff vnto my call
my torment moveth her not at all
and though she torn as doeth a ball
What may it availl me
ffor in despere there is no rede
to want of ere : speche is no spede
to linger still alyve as ded
What may it availl me

Ons as me thought fortune me kyst

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Ons as me thought fortune me kyst
Ons as me thought fortune me kyst
and bad me aske what I thought best
and I should have it as me list
therewith to set my hert in rest
I asked nought but my dere hert
to have for evermore myn owne
then at my ende were all my smert
then should I nede no more mone
Yet for all that a stormy blast
had overtorned this goodely day
and fortune semed at the last
that to her promes she saide nay
But like as oon oute of dispere
to soudden hope revived I
now fortune sheweth herself so fayer
that I content me wonderly
My moost desire my hand may reche
my will is alwaye at my hand
me nede not long for to beseche
her that hath power me to comaund
What erthely thing more can I crave
what would I wisshe more at my will
no thing on erth more would I have
save that I have to have it still
ffor fortune hath kept her promes
in graunting me my moost desire
of my sufferaunce I have my redres
and I content me with my hiere

Resound my voyse ye wodees that here me plain

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Resound my voyse ye wodees that here me plain
Resound my voyse ye wodees that here me plain
boeth hilles and vales causing reflexion
and Ryvers eke record ye of my pain
which have ye oft forced by compassion
as Iudges to here my exclamation
among whome pitie I fynde doeth remayn
When I it seke Alas there is disdain
Oft ye Revers : to here my wofull sounde
have stopt your course : and plainly to expresse
many a tere by moystour of the grounde
the erth hath wept to here my hevenes
which causeles to suffre without redresse
the howgy okes have rored in the wynde
eche thing me thought complayning in their kynde
Why then helas doeth not she on me rew
or is her hert so herd that no pitie
may in it synke my Ioye for to renew
O stony hert ho hath this Ioyned the
so cruell that art : cloked with beaultie
no grace to me from the there may procede
but as rewarded deth for to be my mede

Syns ye delite to knowe

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Syns ye delite to knowe
Syns ye delite to knowe
that my torment & woo
should still encrese
withoute relese
I shall enforce me so
that liff & all shall goo
for to content your cruelnes
And so this grevous trayne
that I to long sustayn
shall sometyme cese
and have redresse
and you also remain
full pleased with my pain
for to content your cruelnes
Onles that be to light
and that ye would ye myght
se the distresse
and hevines
of oon slain owte right
therewith to please your sight
and to content your cruelnes
Then in your cruell mode
would god fourthwith ye woode
with force expresse
my hert oppresse
to do your hert suche goode
to se me bathe in blode
for to content your cruelnes
Then cowld ye aske no more
then should ye ease my sore
and the excesse
of myn excesse
and you should evermore
defamed be therefore
for to repent your cruelnes /

Venemus thornes that ar so sharp & kene

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Venemus thornes that ar so sharp & kene
Venemus thornes that ar so sharp & kene
sometyme ber flowers fayre & freshe of hue
poyson offtyme is put in medecene
and cawsithe helthe in man for to renue
ffyre that purgithe allthing that is vnclene
may hele / & hurt. and if thes bene true
I trust somtyme my harme may be my helthe
syns evry woo is Ioynid with some welth.

rmed

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rmed
rmed
mynde affermed
uld be conferned
that I myght like
arme her hert alike
not se the like
my self in prese
I should not cese
old my pease
d me a pase
had taken place
d in her grace
had found
unde
ver sovnde
st
est
doeth rest

Lyke as the swan

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Lyke as the swan
Lyke as the swan
doeth strayn her v
right so syng I w
I dy I dy and yo
I shall enforce my
that all that her
shall knowe th
I dy I dy and y
your vnkyndnes h
and chaunged
to paynfull
I dy I dy a
Consumeth my
your fawte
melting in
I dy I dy
My faith
bured sh
I do bequ
to cry I

Desire alas my master & my foo /

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Desire alas my master & my foo
Desire alas my master & my foo /
so sore alterd thi sellff how mayst thou se?
whome thousome tyme I did sekesowght / chaseththat dryvys me to & fro
whomesome tyme thow didst ule / ow lyththat ledythe the & me.
tyranie itwhat reson is to rewle thy subiectes so?
by forcyd law & mutabilite
for where by the I dowtyd to have blame
evyn now by hate agayne I dowt the same.

She sat and sowde / that hath done me the wrong/

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She sat and sowde / that hath done me the wrong
She sat and sowde / that hath done me the wrong/
wherof I plain : and have done many a daye.
and whilst she herd my plaint in pitious song/
wisshed my hert the samplar as it lay.
the blynd maister / whome I have serued so long/
grudging to here that he did here her saye/
withmade her owne wepon did makedo her fynger blede/
to fele if pricking were so good in dede.

Who hath herd of suche crueltye before

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Who hath herd of suche crueltye before
Who hath herd of suche tyrannycrueltye before
that when my plaint remembred her my woo
that caused it / she cruell more & more
wisshed eche stitche as she did sit & soo
had prickedprykt myn hert / for to encrese my sore
and as I thinck / she thought it had ben so
for as she thought this is his hert in dede
she pricked herd / & made her self to blede

all to my harme

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all to my harme
all to my harme
sending suche flame from frosen brest
against all right for my vnrest
And I knowe well how frowerdly
ye have mystaken my true Intent
and hetherto how wrongfully
I have founde cause for to repent
but deth shall ryd me redely
yf that your hert do not relent
and I knowe well all this ye knowe
That I and myne
and all I have
ye may assigne
to spill or save
Why are ye then so cruell ffoo
vnto your owne that loveth you so

Comfort thy self my wofull hert

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Comfort thy self my wofull hert
Comfort thy self my wofull hert
or shortly on thy self the wreke
for length redoubleth dedly smert
why sighes thou hert & woult not breke
To wast in sight were pitious deth
alas I fynd the faynt & weke
enforce thy self to lose thy breth
why sighes thou hert & woult not breke
Thou knowest right well that no redrese
is thus to pyne and for to speke
pardy it is remediles
why sighes thou then & woult not breke
It is to late for to refuse
the yoke when it is on thy neck
to shak it of vaileth not to muse
why sighes thou then & woult not breke
To sobb and sigh it were but vain
syns there is none that doeth it reke
alas thou doyst prolong thy pain
why sighes thou then & woult not breke
Then in her sight to move her hert
seke on thy self : thy self to wreke
that she may knowe thou sufferdest smert
sigh there thy last : and therewith breke /

he is not ded that sometyme hath a fall.

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he is not ded that sometyme hath a fall
IH amehe is not ded all though I hadthat sometyme hath a fall.
the Sonne retornesth/that was vnder the clowde.
and when fortune hath spitt oute all her gall//
I trust good luck to me shalbe allowede.
for I have sene a shipp into haven fall
after the storme hath broke boeth mast & shrowde
and eke the willowe that stoppeth with the wynde
doeth ryse again: and greater wode doeth bynd.

My hope Alas hath me abused

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My hope Alas hath me abused
My hope Alas hath me abused
and vain reIoysing hath me fed
lust and Ioye have me refused
and carefull plaint is in their stede
to muche avauncing slaked my spede
myrth hath caused my hevines
and I remain all comfortles
Whereto did I assure my thought
withoute displeasure stedfastly
in fortunes forge my Ioye was wrought
and is revolted redely
I ame mystaken wonderly
for I though nought but faithfulnes
yet I remain all comfortles
In gladsom chere I did delite
till that delite did cause my smert
and all was wrong wher I thought right
for right it was that my true hert
should not from trouth be set apart
syns trouth did cause me hardines
yet I remain all comfortles
Sometyme delight did tune my song
and led my hert full pleasantly
and to my self I saide among
my happ is commyng hastely
but it hath happed contrary
assuraunce causeth my distres
and I remain all comfortles
Then if my note : now do vary
and leve his wonted plesauntnes
the hevy burden that I cary
hath alterd all my Ioyefulnes
no pleasure hath still stedfastnes
but hast hath hurt my happenes
and I remain all comfortles

ffarewell love and all thy lawes for ever

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ffarewell love and all thy lawes for ever
ffarewell love and all thy lawes for ever
thy bayted hookes shall tangill me no more
Senec and plato call me from thy lore
to perfaict welth my wit for to endever
In blynde errour when I did perseuer
thy sherpe repulce that pricketh ay so sore
hath taught me to sett in tryfels no store
and scape fourth syns libertie is lever
Therefore farewell goo trouble yonger hertes
and in me clayme no more authoritie
with idill yeuth goo vse thy propertie
And theron spend thy many brittill dertes
for hetherto though I have spendlost all my tyme
me lusteth no lenger rotten boughes to clyme

ffor to love her for her lokes lovely

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ffor to love her for her lokes lovely
ffor to love her for her lokes lovely
my hert was set in thought right fermely
trusting by trought to have had redresse
but she hath made an othee promese
and hath geven me leve full honestly
yet do I not reioyse it greately
for on my faith I loved to surely
but reason will that I do sesse
for to love her>
Syns that in love the paynes ben dedly
me thincke it best that reddely
I do retorn to my first adresse
for at this tyme to great is the prese
and perilles appere to abundauntely
for to love her

Eche man me telleth I chaunge moost my devise

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Eche man me telleth I chaunge moost my devise
Eche man me telleth I chaunge moost my devise
and on my faith me thinck it goode reason
to chaunge propose like after the season
ffor in every cas to kepe still oon gyse
ys mytt for theim that would be taken wyse
and I ame not of suche maner condition
but treted after a dyvers fasshion
and therupon any dyvernes doeth rise
but you that blame this dyvernes moost
chaunge you no more but still after oon rate
trete ye me well & kepe ye in thesame state
And while with me doeth dwell this weried goost
my worde nor I shall not be variable
but alwaies oon your owne boeth ferme & stable

I fynde no peace and all my warr is done

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I fynde no peace and all my warr is done
I fynde no peace and all my warr is done
I fere & hope I burn & freise like yse
I fley above the wynde yet can I not arrise
and noght I have & all the worold I seson
That loseth nor locketh holdeth me in prison
and holdeth me not yet can I scape no wise
nor letteth me lyve nor dye at my devise
and yet of deth it gyveth me occasion
Withoute Iyen I se & withoute tong I plain
I desire to perisshe and yet I aske helthe
I love an othre and thus I hate my self
I fede me in sorrowe & laught in all my pain
likewise displeaseth me boeth lyff & deth
and my delite is causer of this stryff

Praise him for counceill that is droncke of ale

[edit | edit source]
Praise him for counceill that is droncke of ale
Praise him for counceill that is droncke of ale
grynne when he laugheth that bereth all the swaye
frown when he frowneth & grone when is pale
In othres lust to hang boeth nyght & daye
none of these poyntes would ever frame in me
my wit is nought I cannot lerne the waye
And much the lesse of thinges that greater be
then asken helpe of colours of devise
to Ioyne the mene with eche extremitie
With the neryst vertue to cloke alwaye the vise
and as to pourpose like wise it shall fall
to expresse the vertue that it may not rise
As dronkenes goode felloweshipp to call
the frendly ffoo with his dowble face
say he is gentill & courtois therewithall
And say that favell hath a goodly grace
in eloquence and crueltie to name
zele of Iustice and chaunge in tyme & place
And he that sufferth offence withoute blame
call him pitefull & him true & playn
that raileth rekles to every mans shame
Say he is rude that cannot lye & fayn
the letcher a lover and tirannye
to be the right of a prynces reigne
I cannot I no no it will not be
this is the cause that I could never yet
hang on their slevis that way as thou maist se
A chypp of chaunce more then a pownde of witt
this maketh me at home to hounte & to hawke
and in fowle weder at my booke to sitt
In frost & snowe then with my bow to stawke
no man doeth marke where so I ride or goo
in lusty lees at liberte I walke
And of these newes I fole nor wele nor woo
sauf that a clogg doeth hang yet at my hele
no force for that for it is ordered so
That I may lepe boeth hedge & dike full well
I ame not now in ffraunce to Iudge the wyne
with saffry sauce they delicates to fele
Nor yet in spaigne where oon must him inclyne
rather then to be owtewerdly to seme
I meddill not with wittes that be so fyne
Nor fflaunders chiere letteth not my sight to deme
of black and white nor taketh my wit awaye
with bestlynes they beestes do so esteme
Nor I ame not where Christe is geven in pray
for mony poisen and traison at Rome
a commune practise vsed nyght and daie
But here I ame in kent & christendome
emong the muses where I rede & ryme
Where if thou list my poynz for to com
Thou shalt be Iudge how I do spend my tyme

My mothers maydes when they did sowe & spyn

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My mothers maydes when they did sowe & spyn
My mothers maydes when they did sowe & spyn
they sang sometyme a song of the feld mowse
that forbicause her lyvelood was but thyn
Would nedes goo seke her townyssh systers howse
the thought her self endured to much pain
the stormy blastes her cave so sore did sowse
That when the forowse swymmed with the rain
she must lye cold & whete in sorry plight
and wours then that / bare meet there did remain
To comfort her when she her howse had dight
sometyme a barly corn : sometyme a bene
for which she laboured hard boeth daye & nyght
In harvest tyme whilest she myght goo & glyne
and wher stoore was stroyed with the flodd
then well awaye for she vndone was clene
Then was she fayne to take in stede of fode
slepe if she myght her hounger to begile
my syster she / hath a lyving good
And

BL Harley MS

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BL Harley MS 7333 c. 1510s-1520s. 129 ff. The Henry VIII MS is a collection of 109 vocal and instrumental pieces. Probably compiled after 1513 by Sir Henry Guilford, Controller of the King’s Household, its English songs have settings for three or four voices by Henry VIII, Kempe, Doctor Cooper, William Cornysh, T. Farthyng, Wyllyam Daggere, Rysbye, J. Lloyd, Pygott, and unnamed composers.

A robyn gentyl robyn tel me how thy lemman doth and thow shal know off myne

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A robyn gentyl robyn tel me how thy lemman doth and thow shal know off myne
A robyn gentyl robyn/ tel me how thy lemman doth/ and thow shal know off myne
A robyn gentil robyn gentyl
thy lemman doth
and thow shal know of myne
A robyn gentil robyn
tel me how thy lemman doth
and thow shalt know of myne
my lady us vnkynde I wis
alac why is she so
she louyth another better than me
and yet she will say no
r robyn
I can not thynk such dobylnes
for I fynd wo men trew
In faith my lady louith me well
she will change for no new
A robyn

Some tyme I fledde the fyer that me brent

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Some tyme I fledde the fyer that me brent
Some tyme I fledde the fyer that me brent
by see by lande by water, and by wynde
And now I follow the coles that be quent
ffrom Dover to Callice agaynst my mynde /

Oh happie dames that may imbrace

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Oh happie dames that may imbrace
Oh happie dames that may imbrace
the fructe of your delight
helpe to bewayle the wofull case
and eke the heavie plight
of me that wonted to reioyse
the fortune of my pleasaunt chayse c
Good ladies helpe to fyll my morninge voice

Nature that gave the bee so fatt a grace

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Nature that gave the bee so fatt a grace
Nature that gave the bee so fatt a grace
to fynde honye of so wonderous fascion
hathe taught the spider owt of the same place
to feche poyson by straynge alteration
Thoughe this be straynge yt is a straynger case
wth on kys by secret operation
bothe theys at ons in those ourlyppes to fynde
in chaynge whearof I leave my harte byhynde

Venemous thornes that are so sharpe and kene

[edit | edit source]
Venemous thornes that are so sharpe and kene
Venemous thornes that are so sharpe and kene
some tyme bere flowers fayer & freshe of hewe
poyson oftayne is put in medicine
which cawsethe healthe in man for to renewe
fyer that purgethe all thynge that is vncleane
may heale and hurte. And yf this be trwe
I trust my harme to be my healthe
sens euerrie woe ys yoyned to some wealthe /

Bodleian Library

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Bodleian Library, Rawl. poet. 108 c.1570. 84ff. Possibly transcribed by the Eleanor (Eliner) Gunter who signs her name on f.84v, as many poems throughout are subscribed E. G. This manuscript is an anthology of dance steps, recipes, and miscellaneous verse in English and Latin.

he that belevethe bearinge in hand

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he that belevethe bearinge in hand
he that belevethe bearinge in hand
Sowethe in the water & plowethe in the sande.

Some tyme I fledde the fyer that me brent

[edit | edit source]
Some tyme I fledde the fyer that me brent
Some tyme I fledde the fyer that me brent
by see by lande by water, and by wynde
And now I follow the coles that be quent
ffrom Dover to Callice agaynst my mynde /

Oh happie dames that may imbrace

[edit | edit source]
Oh happie dames that may imbrace
Oh happie dames that may imbrace
the fructe of your delight
helpe to bewayle the wofull case
and eke the heavie plight
of me that wonted to reioyse
the fortune of my pleasaunt chayse c
Good ladies helpe to fyll my morninge voice

Corpus Christi College

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Corpus Christi College, 168 c. 1558-78. 120 ff. This manuscript is an anthology of Richard Cox, Bishop of Ely, in Latin and English.

Myne owne Ihon poyntz sins ye delite to know

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Myne owne Ihon poyntz sins ye delite to know
Myne owne Ihon poyntz sins ye delite to know
the causes why that homeward I me drawe
and flee the presse off courtes where so I goo
Rather then to lyue thrall vnder the awe
of lordly lookes / wrapped within my cloke
to wyll and lust lernyng to set a lawe
It is not bycawse I scorne or mocke
the power of them to whome fortune hath lent
charge ouer vs, of ryght to stroke to strike to strik ye stroke
but trew it is that y haue allwaies ment
Lesse to esteme them then the Commune sorte
of owtwarde thinges that iuge in their intent
withowt regard that dothe inwarde resort
I graunt somtyme that of glorye the fyer
dothe touche my harte and me lust not repent
blame by honour and honour to desier
but howe may I this honour now attayne
that cannot dye the colour of blak a lyer
My poyntz I cannot frame my tonge to fayne
to cloke the trewthe for prayse without desert
Of them that lust all vices to retayne
I Cannot honour them them that sett their part
wythe venus and bacchus all their lyfe longe
nor hollde my peace off them althoughe I smart
I cannot crouche nor knele nor do suche wrong
to wurchippe them like God on erthe alone
that are like wolfes thes sely Lambes among
I cannot with my worde complayne and mone
and suffer nought / nor smart wythout complaynt
Nor torne the worde that from my mouthe is gone
I cannot speake with loke ryght as a saynt
vse wyles for wytt and vse deceyt a pleasure
And call craft counsall, for profit still to paynt
I cannot wrest the lawe to fyll the cofer
with innocent blode to fede my selfe fatte
and do most hurte where moste helpe I offer
I am not he that can allowe the state
off him Caesar and Catho deme to dye / and deme cato to dy
that by his deathe dide escape out off the gate
from caesars hand if livye did not lye
And wold not lyue wher Libertye was lost
So did his hart the comon welthe applye
I ame not he suche eloquence to bost
to marke the singing crowe as the swanne
nor call the lyon off coward bestes the most
that cannot take a mouse as the catt can
and he that diethe for hungar off gold
Call him Alexander and saye that pan
passeth Apollo in musike many a fold
prayes sir thopas for a noble tale
and scorne the storye that the knight tolld
prayse him for counsall that is dronke off Ale
Grynne when he laugheth that beres all the swaye
frowne when he frowneth and grone when he is pale
On others lust to hang bothe night and daye
non off thes poyntz wyll euer frame wyth me
My witt is nought I cannot lerne the waye
And moche the lesse off thinges that greatest be
that asken helpe, off colours off deuise
to ioyne the meane with eche extremitie
with the nerest vertu to cloke alwey the vice
And as to purpose like wyse may fall
to presse the vertu so close that it may not ryse
As dronkynnes good felowschippe to call
the frendly foo with his double face
Say this is gentle and curteis therwithall
and say that favell hathe a goodly grace
In eloquence / And crueltye to name
Zeale off iustice, and change in tyme and place
And he that suffreth offence without blame
call him pityfull And him trewe & playne
that rayleth recheles to euery manes shame
Say he is rude that cannot lye and fayne
the lecher a louer / And tyrannye
to be the ryght off a princes rayne
I cannot I no no it wyll not be
this is the cause I could neuer yet
hang on their sleues that waye as thow mayst see
A chippe of chaunce more then a pownde of wytt
this maketh me at home to hunt and hauke
and in the fowle wether at my book to sytt
In frost and snow then at my book to sitt with my bowe to stalke
no man dothe marke wher to I ryde or goo
in lusty lees at libertie I walke
and off thes newes I fele nor well ne woo
saue of a clogg that yet doth hang at my heele
no fors for that for it is ordred
that I may leppe bothe hedge and diche full weelle
I am not now in france to iuge the wyne
Wyth sauory sawces thes dilicates to feele
Nor yet in spayne wher one must him enclyne
rather then to be owtwardly to seeme
I medle not with wyttes that be so ffyne
nor flannders chere letteth not my wyt to deme
off black and whyght; nor takes my wyttes awaye
with bestlines those beastes do esteme
Nor am I wher Christ is geuen in praye
ffor mony poyson and treason at Rome
a common prattice vsed night and daye
but here I am in kent and cristendome
among the musus muses where I do rede and Rime
Wher if thow lust my Poynts for to come
thow shalt be Judge how I Dispende my tyme

The Courte of Venus

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The Courte of Venus. Newly and diligently corrected with many proper Ballades newly amended The Courte of Venus. Newly and diligently corrected with many proper Ballades newly amended. 1563. STC 24650.2: French edition.

My penne take payne a lytle space

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My penne take payne a lytle space
My penne take payne a lytle space
to folow the thing that doth me chase
and hath in hold, my hart so sore
And when thou hast this brought to passe:
My pen I praye the wryte no more.
Remember how thou hast oft pleased
And al my sorowes also eased
But now vnknowen, I knew before
That wher I trust I am deceyued
And yet my pen thou canst do no more.
A tyme thou hadst as other haue
To wryt whych way my hope to craue
That tyme is past, wythdraw therfore
Sens we doo lose and other saue
As good leave of, and wryt no more,
And vse to worke another way
Not as ye would but as ye may
For els my lyfe is past restore
and my desire is my decay
and yet my pen now wryt no more.
To loue in vaine whosoeuer shal
Of worldly payne it passeth al
As in like case, I find wherfore
To hold so fast, and yet to fal
Alas my pen now wryte no more.
Seyng thou hast taken payne this space
To folow that whych doth me chase
and hath in hold my hart so sore
And now to haue brought this to passe
My pen I pray the to wryt no more.

My lute awake performe the last

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My lute awake performe the last
My lute awake performe the last
Labour that thou and I shal wast,
and end that I haue new begone
for when this song, is gon and past
My lute be stil for I haue done
As to be heard wher care is none
A lead to graue in a marble stone
My song may perse, heart as sone
Should we then syng, wepe or mone
No more my lute for I haue done.
The rocke doth not so cruelly
Repulse the waues continually
As she my sute and affection.
So that I am past al remedy
Wherby my lute and I haue done
Proud of the splen that thou hast shot
Of symple hart, through loues got
Vnkind although thou hast them won
Thinke not he hath his owne forgot
Although my lute and I haue done.
Vengeaunce may fal on such dysdayne
That maketh but game of earnest paine
Trow not alone vnder the sonne
Vngently to cause to louers plaine
Although my lute and I haue done
And then may chaunce the to repent
The time that thou hast lost and spent
To cause thy louer to sighe and sowne
Then shalt thou know beauty but lent
And wyshe and want as I haue done
My lute be stil this is the last
Labour that thou and I shal wast
And end that I haue begonne
Or when this song is song and past
My lute be stil for I haue done.

If fantasy would favour

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If fantasy would favour
If fantasy would favour
As I deserue and shal
My loue my lady paramour
should loue me best of al
And if I not attayne
The grace that I desire
Then may I wel complayne
My seruyce and my hier
Fantasy knoweth how
To forbeare my true hart
If fantasye might auow
Wyth fayth to take part
But fantasy is frayle
And fletynge styl so fast
that faith may not preuail
To helpe me fyrst nor last
Since fantasy at his luste
Doth rule al by gesse
wherto shoulde I put trust
In truth and stedfastnes.
Yet gladly would I please
That fantasy of my hart
That may me onely ease
and helpe my careful smart.
Therfore my lady deare
Let se your fantasy
to make some hope appeare
Of helpe and remedy
For if ye be my frend
And vndertake my wo
My gryefe is at an end
If ye contynew so.
Els fantasy doth not ryght.
As I deserue and shal
To haue her day and night
To loue me best of al.

Magdalene College Pepys MS

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Magdalene College Pepys MS 2553 c. 1570-1586. This manuscript is also known as the Maitland Folio.

All wemeine Ar guid noblle And excellent

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All wemeine Ar guid noblle And excellent
All wemeine Ar guid noblle And excellent
Quha can say that x thay do offend
Daylie x thay serwe thair god with guid intent
Sendill x thai displeifs thair husband is to thair lyffis end
Allwayis x to pleise thame thai do intend
Newir x man can feind in tham bruikilnes
Sic quallateifs thay vse mair & les

Marquess of Bath

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Marquess of Bath MS 258 Sixteenth century. 147 ff. The poems by Chaucer, Lydgate, and others were transcribed in the first quarter of the sixteenth century with additions from the Elizabethan period.

All womenn haue vertues noble and excellent

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All womenn haue vertues noble and excellent
All womenn haue vertues noble and excellent
Who can perceve that, they do offend
Dailly, theye serve god with goode entent
Seldom, they dysplease thear husbandes
Always, to please them they do entende
Never, man may finde in them shrednes
Comonly, suche condicons they haue more or lesse,
What man can percewe that woman be yvill
euery man that hath wit, gretly will them preise
for of vice, they abhoure with all there will
prudence mercy & pa they vse always
foly wrathe and cruelty, they hate (as men saye
Mekenis and vertue, they practise euer
Synne, tavoide vertues they do procure
Som men speke muche yvill by women
truly, therfore they be to blame
Nothing, aman may chek in them
habondently, they are of grac & gode fame
Lackinge, few vertues to agoode nam
in them finde ye, all constantnes
they lac perdy, and all onhapynes
ye may finde in them

National Library of Scotland Advocates

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National Library of Scotland Advocates 1.1.6 c. 1568. Transcribed by George Bannatyne. The manuscript contains poems by Chaucer and Henryson.

I am as I am and so will I be,

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I am as I am and so will I be
I am as I am and so will I be,
Bot how that I am nane knawis trewlie;
Be it evill be it weill, be I bund be I fre,
I am as I am and so will I be.
I leid my lyfe indifferently,
I mene na thing bot honesty,
And thocht men juge diuersly,
I am as I am and so will I be.
I do nocht rew nor yit complane,
Baith mirth and sadnes I do refrane,
And vse the folkis that can nocht fane;
I am as I am be it plesour or pane.
Diuerss do juge as thay trow,
Sum of plesour and sum of wo,
Yit for all that no thing thay knaw;
I am as I am quhair evir I go.
But sen that jugeris do tak that wey,
Lat every man his jugement say,
I will it tak in sport and pley,
For I am as I am quha evir sa nay.
Quha jugeis weill, weill God him send,
Quha jugeis evill, God thame amend,
To juge the best thairfoir intend;
I am as I am and so will I end.
Yit sum thair be that takis delyt
To juge folkis thocht for inwy and spyt,
Bot quhiddir thay juge me wrang or ryt,
I am as I am and so will I wryt.
Praying yow all that this dois reid,
To trest it as ye do your creid,
And nocht to think that I chenge my weid,
I am as I am how evir I speid.
Bot how that is I leif to yow,
Juge as ye list owdir fals or trew,
Ye knaw no moir than afoir ye knew;
I am as I am quhat evir eschew.
And frome this mynd I will nocht fle,
Bot to yow all that misiugeis me,
I do protest as ye may se,
That I am as I am and so will I be.

Plimpton

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Plimpton 276 c. 1554 and 1592. 81 ff. A miscellany in prose and verse, this manuscript was once owned by Anne Bower. It includes entries by Agnes and Willaim Brightman, William Sommer, Philip Symonson, and Richard Johnson.

To my mishappe alas I fynde

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To my mishappe alas I fynde
To my mishappe alas I fynde
that happy happe ys dawngerow
And ffortune workythe but her kynde
to make the Ioyfull Dolorow

Songes and Sonettes

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Songes and Sonettes, written by the ryght honorable Lorde Henry Haward late Earle of Surrey, and other Howard, Henry, Early of Surrey. STC 13860. See also: STC 13861, STC 13862.

MY hart I gaue thee, not to do it pain

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MY hart I gaue thee, not to do it pain
MY hart I gaue thee, not to do it pain:
But, to preserue, lo it to thee was taken.
I serued thee not that I should be forsaken:
But, that I should receiue reward again,
I was content thy seruant to remain:
And, not to be repayd after this fashion.
Now, since in thee is there none nother reason:
Displease thee not, if that I do refrain.
Vnsaciat of my wo, and thy desyre.
Assured by craft for to excuse thy fault.
But, since it pleaseth thee to fain defaut:
Farewell, I say, departing from the fire.
For, he, that doth beleue bearyng in hand:
Ploweth in the water: and soweth in the sand.

My lute awake performe that last

[edit | edit source]
My lute awake performe the last
My lute awake performe the last
Labour that thou and I shall waste:
And end that I haue now begonne:
And when this song is song and past:
My lute be styll for I haue done.
As to be heard where eare is none:
As lead to graue in marble stone:
My song may pearse her hart as sone.
Should we then sigh? or singe, or mone?
No, no, my lute for I haue done.
The rockes do not so cruelly
Repulse the waues continually,
As she my sute and affection:
So that I am past remedy,
Wherby my lute and I haue done.
Proude of the spoile that thou hast gotte
Of simple hartes through loues shot:
By whom vnkinde thou hast them wonne,
Thinke not he hath his bow forgot,
Although my lute and I haue done.
Vengeaunce shall fall on thy disdaine
That makest but game on earnest payne.
Thinke not alone vnder the sunne
Vnquit to cause thy louers plaine:
Although my lute and I haue done.
May chance thee lie witherd and olde,
In winter nightes that are so colde,
Playning in vaine vnto the mone:
Thy wishes then dare not be tolde.
Care then who list, for I haue done.
And then may chance thee to repent
The time that thou hast lost and spent
To cause thy louers sigh and swowne.
Then shalt thou know beauty but lent,
And wish and want as I haue done.
Now cease my lute this is the last,
Labour that thou and I shall wast,
And ended is that we begonne.
Now is this song both song and past,
My lute be still for I haue done.

MAruell nomore altho

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MAruell nomore altho
MAruell nomore altho
The songes, I sing do mone:
For other lyfe then wo,
I neuer proued none.
And in my hart, also,
Is grauen with letters depe
A thousand sighes and mo:
A flood of teares to wepe.
How may a man in smart
Finde matter to reioyce?
How may a moornyng hart
Set foorth a pleasant voice.
Play who so can, that part:
Nedes must in me appere:
How fortune ouerthwart
Doth cause my moorning chere.
Perdy there is no man,
If he saw neuer sight:
That perfitly tell can
The nature of the light.
Alas: how should I than,
That neuer taste but sowre:
But do, as I began,
Continually to lowre.
But yet, perchance some chance
May chance to change my tune:
And, when (Souch) chance doth chance:
Then, shall I thank fortune?
And if I haue (Souch) chance:
Perchance ere it be long:
For (Souch) a pleasant chance,
Tosing some pleasant song.

THe restfull place, renewer of my smart

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THe restfull place, renewer of my smart
THe restfull place, renewer of my smart:
The labours salue, encreasyng my sorow:
The bodyes ease, and troubler of my hart:
Quieter of minde, myne vnquiet fo:
Forgetter of payne, remembrer of my wo:
The place of slepe, wherin I do but wake:
Besprent with teares, my bed, I thee forsake.
The frosty snowes may not redresse my heat:
Nor heat of sunne abate my feruent cold.
I know nothing to ease my paynes so great.
Ech cure causeth encrease by twenty fold,
Renewyng cares vpon my sorowes old.
Such ouerthwart effectes in me they make.
Besprent with teares my bedde for to forsake.
But all for nought: I finde no better ease
In bed, or out. This most causeth my paine:
Where I do seke how best that I may please,
My lost labour (alas) is all in vaine.
My hart once set, I can not it refrayne.
No place from me my grief away can take.
Wherfore with teares, my bed, I thee forsake.

WAs neuer file yet half so well yfiled

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WAs neuer file yet half so well yfiled
WAs neuer file yet half so well yfiled,
To file a file for any smithes intent,
As I was made a filyng instrument,
To frame other, while that I was begiled.
But reason, loe, hath at my foly smiled,
And pardoned me, sins that I me repent
Of my lost yeres, and of my time mispent.
For youth led me, and falshod me misguided.
Yet, this trust I haue of great apparence:
Sins that disceit is ay returnable,
Of verye force it is agreable,
That therwithall be done the recompence.
Then gile begiled playnd should be neuer,
And the reward is little trust for euer.

SVch vain thought, as wonted to mislead me

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SVch vain thought, as wonted to mislead me
SVch vain thought, as wonted to mislead me
In desert hope by well assured mone,
Makes me from company to liue alone,
In folowyng her whom reason bids me fle.
And after her my hart would faine be gone:
But armed sighes my way do stop anone,
Twixt hope and dread lockyng my libertie.
So fleeth she by gentle crueltie.
Yet as I gesse vnder disdainfull brow
One beame of ruth is in her cloudy loke:
Which comfortes the mind, that erst for fear shoke.
That bolded straight the way then seke I how
To vtter forth the smart I bide within:
But such it is, I not how to begyn.

VNwarely so was neuer no man caught,

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VNwarely so was neuer no man caught
VNwarely so was neuer no man caught,
With stedfast loke vpon a goodly face:
As I of late: for sodainely me thought,
My hart was torne out of his proper place.
Thorow mine eye the stroke from hers did slide,
Directly downe into my hart it ranne:
In helpe wherof the blood therto did glide,
And left my face both pale and wanne.
Then was I like a man for wo amased:
Or like the fowle that fleeth into the fire.
For while that I vpon her beauty gased:
The more I burnde in my desire.
Anone the bloud start in my face agayne,
Inflamde with heat, that it had at my hart.
And brought therwith through out in euery vaine,
A quakyng heat with pleasant smart.
Then was I like the straw, when that the flame
Is driuen therin, by force, and rage of winde.
I can not tell, alas, what I shall blame:
Nor what to seke, nor what to finde.
But well I wot: the griefe doth hold me sore
In heat and cold, betwixt both hope and dreade:
That, but her helpe to health do me restore:
This restlesse life I may not lead.

THe wandring gadling, in the sommer tyde,

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THe wandring gadling, in the sommer tyde
THe wandring gadling, in the sommer tyde,
That findes the Adder with his rechlesse foote
Startes not dismaid so sodeinly aside,
As iealous despite did, though there were no boote,
When that he saw me sitting by her syde,
That of my health is very crop, and roote.
It pleased me then to haue so fayre a grace,
To styng the hart, that would haue had my place.

THe liuely sparkes, that issue from those eyes,

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THe liuely sparkes, that issue from those eyes
THe liuely sparkes, that issue from those eyes,
Against the which there vaileth no defence,
Haue perst my hart, and done it none offence,
With quakyng pleasure, more then once or twise.
Was neuer man could any thing deuise,
Sunne beames to turne with so great vehemence
To dase mans sight, as by their bright presence
Dased am I, much like vnto the gise
Of on striken with dint of lightenyng,
Blind with the stroke, and erryng here and there.
So call I for helpe, I not when, nor where,
The payne of my fall paciently bearyng.
For streight after the blase (as is no wonder)
Of deadly noyse heare I the fearfull thunder.

SOmtime I fled the fire, that me so brent,

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SOmtime I fled the fire, that me so brent
SOmtime I fled the fire, that me so brent,
By sea, by land, by water, and by wynde:
And now, the coales I folow, that be quent,
From Douer to Calais, with willing minde,
Lo, how desire is both furth sprong, and spent:
And he may see, that whilom was so blinde:
And all his labour, laughes he now to scorne,
Meashed in the breers, that erst was onely torne.

TO my mishap alas I fynde

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TO my mishap alas I fynde
TO my mishap alas I fynde
That happy hap is daungerous:
And fortune worketh but her kynd
To make the ioyfull dolorous.
But all to late it comes to minde,
To waile the want that makes me blinde,
Amid my mirth and pleasantnesse,
Such chaunce is chaunced sodainly,
That in dispaire without redresse,
I finde my chiefest remedy.
No new kinde of vnhappinesse,
Should thus haue left me comfortlesse.
Who wold haue thought that my request,
Should bring me forth such bitter frute:
But now is hapt that I feard lest,
And all this harme comes by my sute,
For when I thought me happiest,
Euen then hapt all my chiefe vnrest.
In better case was neuer none
And yet vnwares thus am I trapt,
My chiefe desire doth cause me mone,
And to my harme my welth is hapt,
There is no man but I alone,
That hath such cause to sigh and mone.
Thus am I taught for to beware
And trust no more such pleasant chance,
My happy happe bred me this care,
And brought my mirth to great mischance.
There is no man whom happe will spare,
But when she list his welth is bare.

SO feble is the threde, that doth the burden stay,

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SO feble is the threde, that doth the burden stay
SO feble is the threde, that doth the burden stay,
Of my poore life: in heauy plight, that falleth in decay:
That, but it haue elswhere some ayde or some succours:
The running spindle of my fate anone shall end his course.
For since thunhappy hower, that dyd me to depart,
From my swete weale: one onely hope hath stayed my life, apart:
Which doth perswade such wordes vnto my sored minde:
Maintain thy self, O wofull wight, some better luck to finde.
For though thou be depriued from thy desired sight:
Who can thee tell, if thy returne be for thy more delight?
Or, who can tell, thy losse if thou mayst once recouer?
Some pleasant hower thy wo may wrappe: & thee defend, & couer.
Thus in this trust as yet it hath my life sustained:
But now (alas) I see it faint: and I, by trust, am trayned.
The tyme doth flete, and I se how the howers, do bend
So fast: that I haue scant the space to mark my commyng end.
Westward the sonne from out the East scant shewes his light:
When in the West he hides him strayt, within the dark of nyght.
And comes as fast, where he began, his path awry.
From East to West, from West to East so doth his iourney ly.
The life so short, so fraile, that mortall men liue here:
So great a weight, so heauy charge the bodies, that we bere:
That, when I think vpon the distaunce, and the space:
That doth so farre deuide me from my dere desired face:
I know not, how tattain the winges, that I require,
To lift me vp: that I might flie, to folow my desyre.
Thus of that hope, that doth my life somethyng sustayne,
Alas: I feare, and partly fele: full litle doth remain.
Eche place doth bring me griefe: where I do not behold
Those liuely eyes: which of my thoughts wer wont the keys to hold
Those thoughtes were pleasant swete: whilst I enioyed that grace:
My pleasure past, my present pain, when I might well embrace.
And, for because my want should more my wo encrease:
In watch, and slepe, both day, and night, my will doth neuer cease
That thing to wish: wherof since I did leese the sight:
Was neuer thing that mought in ought my woful hart delight,
Thunesy lyfe, I lead, doth teach me for to mete
The floodes, the seas, the land, the hylles: that doth then entermete
Twene me, and those shene lightes: that wonted for to clere
My darked panges of cloudy thoughts, as bright as Phebus spere,
It teacheth me, also, what was my pleasant state:
The more to fele, by such record, how that my wealth doth bate.
If such record (alas) prouoke thenflamed mynde:
Which sprong that day, that I did leaue the best of me behynde:
If loue forget himself, by length of absence, let:
Who doth me guyde (O wofull wretch) vnto this bayted net?
Where doth encrease my care: much better wer for me,
As dumme, as stone, all thyng forgot, still absent for to be.
Alas: the clere cristall, the bright transplendant glasse
Doth not bewray the colours hidde, which vnderneth it hase:
As doth thaccumbred sprite the thoughtfull throwes discouer,
Of feares delite, of feruent loue: that in our hartes we couer.
Out by these eyes, it sheweth that euermore delight.
In plaint, and teares to seke redresse: and eke both day and night.
These kindes of pleasures most wherein men so reioyce,
To me they do redubble still of stormy sighes the voyce.
For, I am one of them, whom playnt doth well content:
It sits me well: myne absent wealth me semes for to lament:
And with my teares, tassay to charge myne eies twayn:
Lyke as my hart aboue the brink is fraughted full of payn.
And forbecause, therto, of those fair eyes to treate
Do me prouoke: I wyll returne, my plaint thus to repeate.
For, there is nothing els, that toucheth me so within:
Where they rule all: and I alone nought but the case, or skin.
Wherefore, I shall returne to them, as well, or spring:
From whom descendes my mortall wo, aboue all other thing.
So shall myne eyes in pain accompany my hart:
That were the guides, that did it lead of loue to fele the smart.
The crisped golde, that doth surmount Apollos pride:
The liuely streames of pleasant starres that vnder it doth glyde:
Wherein the beames of loue doe styll encrease theyr heate:
Which yet so farre touch me so nere, in colde to make me sweate.
The wyse and pleasant talk, so rare, orels alone:
That gaue to me the curteis gift, that erst had neuer none:
Be farre from me, alas: and euery other thyng
I might forbeare with better wyll: then this that dyd me bryng,
With pleasant worde and chere, redresse of lingred pain:
And wonted oft in kindled will to vertue me to trayn.
Thus, am I forst to heare, and harken after newes.
My comfort scant my large desire in doutfull trust renewes.
And yet with more delite to mone my wofull case:
I must complain those handes, those armes: that firmely do embrace
Me from my self: and rule the sterne of my poore lyfe:
The swete disdaines, the pleasant wrathes, and eke the louely strife:
That wonted well to tune in temper iust, and mete,
The rage: that oft dyd make me erre, by furour vndiscrete.
All this is hydde me fro, with sharp, and ragged hylles:
At others will, my long abode my depe dispaire fullfils.
And if my hope sometime ryse vp, by some redresse:
It stumbleth straite, for feble faint: my feare hath such excesse.
Such is the sort of hope: the lesse for more desyre:
And yet I trust ere that I dye to see that I require:
The restyng place of loue: where vertue dwelles and growes
There I desire, my wery life, somtime, may take repose.
My song: thou shalt attain to finde that pleasant place:
Where she doth lyue, by whom I liue: may chance, to haue this grace
When she hath red, and sene the grief, wherin I serue:
Betwene her brestes she shall thee put: there, shall she thee reserue
Then, tell her, that I cumme: she shall me shortly see:
And if for waighte the body fayle, the soule shall to her flee.

O Happy dames, that may embrace

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O Happy dames, that may embrace
O Happy dames, that may embrace
The frute of your delight,
Help to bewaile the wofull case,
And eke the heauy plight
Of me, that wonted to reioyce
The fortune of my pleasant choyce:
Good Ladies, help to fill my moorning voyce.
In ship, freight with rememberance
Of thoughts, and pleasures past,
He sailes that hath in gouernance
My life, while it wil last:
With scalding sighes, for lack of gale,
Furdering his hope, that is his sail
Toward me, the swete port of his auail.
Alas, how oft in dreames I se
Those eyes, that were my food,
Which somtime so delited me,
That yet they do me good.
Wherwith I wake with his returne,
Whose absent flame did make me burne.
But when I find the lacke, Lord how I mourne?
When other louers in armes acrosse,
Reioyce their chiefe delight:
Drowned in teares to mourne my losse,
I stand the bitter night,
In my window, where I may see,
Before the windes how the cloudes flee.
Lo, what a mariner loue hath made me.
And in grene waues when the salt flood
Doth rise, by rage of winde:
A thousand fansies in that mood
Assayle my restlesse mind.
Alas, now drencheth my swete fo,
That with the spoyle of my hart did go,
And left me but (alas) why did he so?
And when the seas waxe calme againe,
To chase fro me annoye.
My doutfull hope doth cause me plaine:
So dreade cuts of my ioye.
Thus is my wealth mingled with wo,
And of ech thought a dout doth growe,
Now he comes, will he come? alas, no no.

GO burning sighes vnto the frosen hart,

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GO burning sighes vnto the frosen hart
GO burning sighes vnto the frosen hart,
Go breake the yse which pities painfull dart,
Myght neuer perce and yf that mortall prayer,
In heauen be herd, at lest yet I desire.
That death or mercy end my wofull smart.
Take with thee payn, wherof I haue my part,
And eke the flame from which I cannot start,
And leaue me then in rest, I you require:
Go burning sighes fulfil that I desire.
I must go worke I see by craft and art,
For truth and faith in her is laid apart:
Alas, I can not therfore assaile her,
With pitefull complaint and scalding fier,
That from my brest disceiuably doth start.

MY youthfull yeres are past,

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MY youthfull yeres are past
MY youthfull yeres are past,
My ioyfull dayes are gone:
My life it may not last,
My graue and I am one.
My mirth and ioyes are fled,
And I a man in wo:
Desirous to be dedde,
My mischiefe to forgo.
I burne and am a colde,
I frise amids the fire:
I see she dothe withholde
That is my most desire.
I see my helpe at hand,
I see my lyfe also:
I see where she dothe stande
That is my deadly foe.
I see how she dothe see,
And yet she will be blinde:
I se in helpyng me
She sekes and will not finde.
I see how she doth wry,
When I begyn to mone:
I see when I come nie,
HhwHow faine she wold be gone.
I see what will ye more
She will me gladly kyll:
And you shall see therfore
That she shall haue her will.
I can not liue with stones
It is to hard a fode:
I will be dead at once
To do my Lady good.

AL in thy loke my life doth whole depende.

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AL in thy loke my life doth whole depende
AL in thy loke my life doth whole depende.
Thou hydest thy self, and I must dye therfore.
But sins thou mayst so easily helpe thy frend:
Why doest thou stick to salue that thou madest sore?
Why do I dye? sins thou mayst me defend?
And if I dye, thy life may last no more.
For ech by other doth liue and haue reliefe,
I in thy loke, and thou most in my griefe.

BEhold, Loue, thy power how she despiseth

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BEhold, Loue, thy power how she despiseth
BEhold, Loue, thy power how she despiseth:
My greuous payn how litle she regardeth,
The solemne othe, wherof she takes no cure,
Broken she hath: and yet, she bydeth sure,
Right at her ease, and litle thee she dredeth.
Weaponed thou art, and she vnarmed sitteth:
To the disdainful, all her life she leadeth:
To me spitefull, without iust cause, or measure.
Behold Loue, how proudly she triumpheth,
I am in hold, but if thee pitie meueth:
Go, bend thy bow, that stony hartes breaketh:
And with some stroke reuenge the great displeasure
Of thee, and himthat sorow doth endure,
And as his Lord thee lowly here entreateth.

THey flee from me, that somtime did me seke

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THey flee from me, that somtime did me seke
THey flee from me, that somtime did me seke
With naked fote stalkyng within my chamber.
Once haue I seen them gentle, tame, and meke,
That now are wild, and do not once remember
That sometyme they haue put them selues in danger,
To take bread at my hand, and now they range,
Busily sekyng in continuall change.
Thanked be fortune, it hath bene otherwise
Twenty tymes better: but once especiall,
In thinne aray, after a pleasant gyse,
When her loose gowne did from her shoulders fall,
And she me caught in her armes long and small,
And therwithall, so swetely did me kysse,
And softly sayd: deare hart, how like you this?
It was no dreame: for I lay broade awakyng.
But all is turnde now through my gentlenesse.
Into a bitter fashion of forsakyng:
And I haue leaue to go of her goodnesse,
And she also to vse newfanglenesse.
But, sins that I vnkyndly so am serued:
How like you this, what hath she now deserued?

CEsar, when that the traytour of Egypt

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CEsar, when that the traytour of Egypt
CEsar, when that the traytour of Egypt
With thonorable hed did him present,
Coueryng his hartes gladnesse, did represent
Plaint with his teares outward, as it is writ.
Eke Hannibal, when fortune him outshyt
Clene from his reigne, and from all his entent,
Laught to his folke, whom sorow did torment,
His cruel despite for to disgorge and quit.
So chanceth me, that euery passion
The minde hideth by colour contrary,
With fayned visage, now sad, now mery.
Wherby, if that I laugh at any season:
It is because I haue none other way
To cloke my care, but vnder sport and play.

PErdy I sayd it not

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PErdy I sayd it not
PErdy I sayd it not:
Nor neuer thought to do.
As well as I ye wot:
I haue no power therto,
And if I did, the lot,
That first did me enchayne:
May neuer slake the knot,
But strayght it to my payne.
And if I did ech thing,
That may do harme or wo:
Continually may wring
My hart where so I go.
Report may alwayes ring
Of shame on me for aye:
If in my hart did spring
The wordes that you do say
And if I did ech starre,
That is in heauen aboue,
May frowne on me to marre
The hope I haue in loue.
And if I did such warre,
As they brought vnto Troye,
Bring all my life as farre
From all his lust and ioye.
And if I did so say:
The beautie that me bounde,
Encrease from day to day
More cruell to my wounde:
With all the mone that may,
To plaint may turne my song:
My life may sone decay,
Without redresse by wrong.
If I be cleare from thought,
Why do you then complayne?
Then is this thing but sought.
To turne my hart to payne,
Then this that you haue wrought,
You must it now redresse,
Of right therfore you ought
Such rigour to represse.
And as I haue deserued:
So graunt me now my hire:
You know I neuer swerued,
You neuer founde me lyer.
For Rachel haue I serued,
For Lea cared I neuer:
And her I haue reserued
Within my hart for euer.

NAture that'gaue the Bee so feat a grace,

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NAture that'gaue the Bee so feat a grace
NAture that'gaue the Bee so feat a grace,
To finde hony of so wondrous fashion:
Hath taught the spider out of the same place
To fetch poyson by strange alteracion.
Though this be strange, it is a stranger case,
With one kisse by secrete operacion,
Both these at once in those your lippes to finde,
In change wherof, I leaue my hart behinde.

ONce as me thought, fortune me kist

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ONce as me thought, fortune me kist
ONce as me thought, fortune me kist:
And bade me aske, what I thought best:
And I should haue it as me list,
Therewith to set my hart in rest.
I asked but my ladies hart
To haue for euermore myne owne:
Then at an end were all my smart:
Then should I nede no more to mone.
Yet for all that a stormy blast
Had ouerturnde this goodly day:
And fortune semed at the last,
That to her promise she said nay.
But like as one out of dispayre
To sodain hope reuiued I.
Now fortune sheweth her selfe so fayre,
That I content me wondersly.
My most desire my hand may reach:
My will is alway at my hand.
Me nede not long for to beseche
Her, that hath power me to commaunde.
What earthly thing more can I craue?
What would I wishe more at my will?
Nothing on earth more would I haue,
Saue that I haue, to haue it styll.
For fortune hath kept her promesse,
In grauntyng me my most desire.
Of my soueraigne I haue redresse,

REsownde my voyce ye woodes, that heare me plaine

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REsownde my voyce ye woodes, that heare me plaine
REsownde my voyce ye woodes, that heare me plaine:
Both hilles and vales causyng reflexion,
And riuers eke, record ye of my paine:
Which haue oft forced ye by compassion,
As iudges lo to heare my exclamacion.
Amonge whom, such (I finde) yet doth remaine.
Where I it seke, alas, there is disdaine.
Oft ye riuers, to hear my wofull sounde,
Haue stopt your cours, and plainely to expresse,
Many a teare by moisture of the grounde
The earth hath wept to hear my heauinesse:
Which causelesse I endure without redresse.
The hugy okes haue rored in the winde,
Ech thing me thought complayning in their kinde.
Why then alas doth not she on me rew,
Or is her hart so hard that no pitie
May in it sinke, my ioye for to renew?
O stony hart who hath thus framed thee
So cruell? that art cloked with beauty,
That from thee may no grace to me procede,
But as reward death for to be my mede.

VEnemous thornes that are so sharp and kene,

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VEnemous thornes that are so sharp and kene
VEnemous thornes that are so sharp and kene,
Beare flowers we se full fresh and faire of hue:
Poison is also put in medicine.
And vnto man his helth doth oft renue.
The fier that all thinges eke consumeth cleane
May hurt and heale: then if that this be true.
I trust sometime my harme may be my health,
Sins euery woe is ioyned with some wealth.

DEsire (alas) my master, and my fo

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DEsire (alas) my master, and my fo
DEsire (alas) my master, and my fo:
So sore altred thy self how mayst thou see?
Sometime thou sekest, that drieues me to and fro
Sometime, thou leadst, that leadeth thee, and me.
What reason is to rule thy subiectes so?
By forced law, and mutabilitie.
For where by thee I douted to haue blame:
Euen now by hate again I dout thesamethe same.

SHe sat, and sowed: that hath done me the wrong

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SHe sat, and sowed: that hath done me the wrong
SHe sat, and sowed: that hath done me the wrong:
Wherof I plain, and haue done many a day:
And, whilst she herd my plaint, in piteous song:
She wisht my harttheheart samplar, that it lay.
The blinde maister, whom I haue serued so long:
Grudgyng to heare, that he did heare her say:
Made her owne weapon do her finger blede:
To fele, if pricking wer so good in dede.

WHat man hath hard such cruelty before?

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WHat man hath hard such cruelty before?
WHat man hath hard such cruelty before?
That, when my plaint remembred her my wo,
That caused it: she cruell more, and more,
Wished eche stitche, as she did sit, and sow,
Had prickt my hart, for to encrease my sore.
And, as I think, she thought, it had bene so.
For as she thought, this is his hart in dede:
She pricked hard: and made her self to blede.

ONce as me thought, fortune me kist

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ONce as me thought, fortune me kist
ONce as me thought, fortune me kist:
And bade me aske, what I thought best:
And I should haue it as me list,
Therewith to set my hart in rest.
I asked but my ladies hart
To haue for euermore myne owne:
Then at an end were all my smart:
Then should I nede no more to mone.
Yet for all that a stormy blast
Had ouerturnde this goodly day:
And fortune semed at the last,
That to her promise she said nay.
But like as one out of dispayre
To sodain hope reuiued I.
Now fortune sheweth her selfe so fayre,
That I content me wondersly.
My most desire my hand may reach:
My will is alway at my hand.
Me nede not long for to beseche
Her, that hath power me to commaunde.
What earthly thing more can I craue?
What would I wishe more at my will?
Nothing on earth more would I haue,
Saue that I haue, to haue it styll.
For fortune hath kept her promesse,
In grauntyng me my most desire.
Of my soueraigne I haue redresse,
And I content me with my hire.

HE is not dead, that somtime had a fall.

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HE is not dead, that somtime had a fall
HE is not dead, that somtime had a fall.
The Sonne returnes, that hid was vnder clowd.
And when Fortune hath spit out all her gall,
I trust, good luck to me shall be alowd.
For, I haue seen a ship in hauen fall,
After that storme hath broke both maste, and shroude.
The willowe eke, that stoupeth with the winde,
Doth rise againe, and greater wood doth binde.

FArewell, Loue, and all thy lawes for euer.

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FArewell, Loue, and all thy lawes for euer
FArewell, Loue, and all thy lawes for euer.
Thy bayted hokes shall tangle me no more.
Senec, and Plato call me from thy lore:
To parfit wealth my wit for to endeuer.
In blinde errour when I dyd parseuer:
Thy sharp repulse, that pricketh aye so sore:
Taught me in trifles that I set no store:
But scape forth thence: since libertie is leuer.
Therfore, farewell: go trouble yonger hartes:
And in me claime no more auctoritie.
With ydle youth go vse thy propartie:
And theron spend thy many brittle dartes.
For, hytherto though I haue lost my tyme:
Me lyst no lenger rotten bowes to clime.

EChe man me telth, I change most my deuise

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EChe man me telth, I change most my deuise
EChe man me telth, I change most my deuise:
And, on my faith, me thinke it good reason
To change purpose, like after the season.
For in ech case to kepe still one guise
Is mete for them, that would be taken wise.
And I am not of such maner condicion:
But treated after a diuers fashion:
And therupon my diuersnesse doth rise.
But you, this diuersnesse that blamen most,
Change you no more, but still after one rate
Treat you me well: and kepe you in that state.
And while with me doth dwell this weried gost,
My word nor I shall not be variable,
But alwaies one, your owne both firme and stable.

MY loue to skorne, my seruice to retayne,

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MY loue to skorne, my seruice to retayne
MY loue to skorne, my seruice to retayne,
Therin (me thought) you vsed crueltie.
Since with good will I lost my libertie,
Might neuer wo yet cause me to refrain,
But onely this, which is extremitie,
To geue me nought (alas) nor to agree,
That as I was, your man I might remain.
But synce that thus ye list to order me,
That would haue bene your seruant true, and fast:
Displease you not: my doting time is past.
And with my losse to leaue I must agree.
For as there is a certayn time to rage:
So is there time such madnes to aswage.

DRiuen by desire I did this dede

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DRiuen by desire I did this dede
DRiuen by desire I did this dede
To danger my self without'cause why:
To trust thuntrue not like to spede,
To speake and promise faythfully:
But now the proufe doth verifie,
That who so trusteth ere he know.
Doth hurt him self and please his foe.

I Find no peace, and all my warre is done

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I Find no peace, and all my warre is done
I Find no peace, and all my warre is done:
I feare, and hope: I burne, and frese like yse:
I flye aloft, yet can I not arise:
And nought I haue, and all the worlde I season.
That lockes nor loseth, holdeth me in pryson,
And holdes me not, yet can I scape no wise:
Nor lettes me lyue, nor dye, at my deuise,
And yet of death it geueth me occasion.
Without eye I se, without tong I playne:
I wish to perysh, yet I aske for helth:
I loue another, and thus I hate my selfe.
I fede me in sorow, and laugh in all my payne.
Lo, thus displeaseth me both death and life.
And my delight is causer of this strife.

MYne owne Iohn Poyns: sins ye delite to know

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MYne owne Iohn Poyns: sins ye delite to know
MYne owne Iohn Poyns: sins ye delite to know
The causes why that homeward I me draw,
And fle the prease of courtes, where so they go:
Rather then to liue thrall vnder the awe,
Of lordly lokes, wrapped within my cloke,
To will and lust learnyng to set a law:
It is not, because I scorne or mocke
The power of them: whom fortune here hath lent
Charge ouer vs, of ryght to strike the stroke.
But true it is, that I haue alwayes ment
Lesse to'esteme them, then the common sort
Of outward thinges: that iudge in their entent,
Without regard, what inward doth resort.
I graunt, sometime of glory that the fire
Doth touch my hart. Me list not to report
Blame by honour, and honour to desire.
But how may I this honour now attaine?
That can not dye the colour blacke a lyer.
My Poyns, I can not frame my tune to fayne:
To cloke the truth, for prayse without desert,
Of them that list all nice for to retaine.
I can not honour them, that set their part
"With Venus, and Bacchus, all their life long:
Nor holde my peace of them, although I smart.
I can not crouch nor knele to such a wrong:
To worship them like God on earth alone:
That are as wolues these sely lambes among.
I can not with my wordes complaine and mone,
And suffer nought: nor smart without complaynt:
Nor turne the worde that from my mouth is gone.
I can not speake and loke like as a saynt:
Vse wiles for wit, and make disceyt a pleasure:
Call craft counsaile, for lucre still to paint.
I can not wrest the law to fill the coffer:
With innocent bloud to fede my selfe fatte:
And do most hurt: where that most helpe I offer.
I am not he, that can alowe the state
Of hye Ceasar, and damne Cato to dye:
That with his death did scape out of the gate,
From Ceasars handes, if Liuye doth not lye:
And would not liue, where libertie was lost,
So did his hart the common wealth apply.
I am not he, such eloquence to bost:
To make the crow in singyng, as the swanne:
Nor call the lyon of coward beastes the most.
That can not take a mouse, as the cat can.
And he that dieth for honger of the golde,
Call him Alexander, and say that Pan
Passeth Appollo in musike manifold:
Praise syr Topas for a noble tale,
And scorne the story that the knight tolde:
Prayse him for counsell, that is dronke of ale:
Grinne when he laughes, that beareth all the sway:
Frowne, when he frownes: and grone when he is pale:
On others lust to hang both night and day.
None of these poyntes would euer frame in me.
My wit is nought, I can not learne the way.
And much the lesse of thinges that greater be,
That asken helpe of colours to deuise
To ioyne the meane with ech extremitie:
With nearest vertue ay to cloke the vice.
And as to purpose likewise it shall fall:
To presse the vertue that it may not rise.
And as to purpose likewise it shall fall,
To presse the vertue that it may not rise.
As dronkennesse good felowship to call:
The frendly foe, with his faire double face,
Say he is gentle and curties therewithall.
Affirme that fauell hath a goodly grace,
In eloquence: And cruelty to name
Zeale of Iustice: And change in time and place.
And he that suffreth offence withoutt blame:
Call him pitifull, and him true and plaine,
That rayleth rechlesse vnto ech mans shame.
Say he is rude, that can not lye and faine:
The letcher a louer, and tyranny
To be the right of a Prynces rayghne.
I can not, I no, no, it will not be.
This is the cause that I could neuer yet
Hang on their sleues, that weygh (as tough mayst se)
A chippe of chance more then a pounde of wit.
This maketh me at home to hunt and hauke:
And in fowle wether at my boke to sit:
In frost and snow, then with my bow to stalke.
No man doth marke where so I ride or go.
In lusty leas at libertie I walke:
And of these newes I fele nor weale nor wo:
Saue that a clogge doth hang yet at my heele.
No force for that, for it is ordred so:
That I may leape both hedge and dike full wele,
I am not now in Fraunce, to iudge the wine:
With savry sauce those delicates to fele.
Nor yet in Spaine where one must him incline,
Rather then to be, outwardly to seme.
I meddle not with wyttes that be so fine,
Nor Flaunders chere lettes not my syght to deme
Of blacke and white, nor takes my wittes away
With beastlinesse: such do those beastes esteme.
Nor I am not, where truth is geuen in pray,
For money, poyson, and treason: of some
A common practise, vsed nyght and day.
But I am here in kent and christendome:
Among the Muses, where I reade and ryme,
Where if thou list myne owne Iohn Poyns to come:
Thou shalt be iudge, how I do spende my time.

MY mothers maides when they do sowe and spinne

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MY mothers maides when they do sowe and spinne
MY mothers maides when they do sowe and spinne:
They sing a song made of the feldishe mouse:
That forbicause her liuelod was but thinne,
Would nedes go se her townish sisters house,
She thought, her selfe endured to greuous payne,
The stormy blastes her caue so sore did sowse:
That when the furrowes swimmed with the rayne:
She'must lie colde, and wet in sory plight.
And worse then that, bare meat there did remaine
To comfort her, when she her house had dight:
Sometime a barly corne: sometime a beane:
For which she laboured hard both day and night,
In haruest tyme, while she might go and gleane.
And when her store was stroyed with the floode:
Then weleaway for she vndone was cleane.
Then was she faine to take in stede of fode,
Slepe if she might, her honger to begyle.
My sister (quod she) hath a liuyng good:
And hence from me she dwelleth not a myle.

Trinity College MS

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Trinity College MS 160 16th century. A composite volume. The first two parts contain a lament of the virgin and Peter Idley’s Instructions. Both of these are from the fifteenth century. The third part, comprised of ff. 57-186, is the Blage MS, which is a verse miscellany compiled by John Mantell from c. 1534-41, and George Blage from c. 1545-48.

O crewell causere of vndeseruyd chaunce

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O crewell causere of vndeseruyd chaunce
O crewell causere of vndeseruyd chaunce
By great desyer inconstantlye to raygne
ys this your way ffor proffe of stedffastnes
perde ye knowe the thynge was not so straung
by fformer proff to myche my ffaythffuln
what nedythe then suche colleryd dobbylnes
I haue waylid thus wepping in nyghtly payne
in sobbis and syghis alas and all in vayne
in inward playnt and hartes woffull torment
& yet alas lo creweltye and disdayne
haue set at nought a ffaythfull trewe intent
and pryce hathe pryvylege truthe to present
But thoughe I serue & to my dethe styll morne
and pen me in pecys though I be torne
& though I dye yeldyng my weryed gost
shall neuer thyng agayne mak me to torne
I quyt the interpryse of that that I haue lost
to whom so euer lyst ffor to proffere most

At laste withdraw youre crueltye

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At laste withdraw youre crueltye
At laste withdraw youre crueltye
or let me dy a tons
hit ys to mych extremety
Devysid for the nons
to hold me styll alyve
in paynes styll for to stryve
what may I more susteigne
alas that dy wold fayne
and cannot dy for payne
ffor to the flame wherwith I burne
my thought & my desyre
when into asshes hit shuld turnne
my harte by faruent fyer
you send a stormy rayne
that doth yt quench agayne
and makes my Eyes expresse
the teyres that doth opres
my lyffe in wretchednes
Then when they shuld haue drowned
and ouer whelmed my harte
the hete doth them confound
renewyng all my smarte
then doth the flame encresse
my turment cannot seasse
my paynes than revyve dothe
and I remayne alyve
with deth styll for to stryve
But that you wyll haue my deth
and that you wold no nother
then shortly for to stope my breth
withdrawe the one or other
for this youre cruelneste
doth let yt self perde
o man a lyve nor I
dowble deth canne dy

To wette your yee withoutyn teare

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To wette your yee withoutyn teare
To wette your yee withoutyn teare
and in goodhelthe to fayne dyssease
that you therby myn yee myght bleare
therwith your ffrendes to please
and thoughe ye thynk ye ned not ffeare
yet so ye cannot me apease
but as you lyst ffayne fflatyr or glose
you shall not wyn yf I do losse
Prat and paynt and spare not
ye knowe I can me wreke
and yf so be ye car not
be suer I do not recke
and thoughe ye swere yt were not
I can bothe swere and speake
by god and by the crosse
If I haue the mocke ye shall haue it the worse

Suffryng in sorrowe in hope to attayne

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Suffryng in sorrowe in hope to attayne
Suffryng in sorrowe in hope to attayne
Desyring in ffeare I dar not complayne
trowe in belyefe in whome ys all my trust
do thou aplye to ease me of my payne
for elys to serue and ssuffyr styll I must
Hoppe ys my hold yet in dyspayre I speake
I dryve ffrom tyme & do not recke
how long to love thus after louys lust
in stody styll of that I dar not brake
wherffore to serue and suffyr styll I must
Increas of care I ffynd bothe day and nyght
I hat that sometyme was my most delyght
the cause therof ye know I haue dyscost
and yet to reffrayne yt passythe my myght
Wherfor to serue and suffer styll I must
Love who so lyst at lenthe he shall well saye
to love and leve in feare yt ys no playe
record that knowith yf this be notyd Iust
that wher as love dothe lede there ys no nay
but serue and suffer styll allwaye I must
Then ffor to lyve with losse of lybertye
at last perchaunce shalbe his remedye
and ffor his truthe qud with ffals mistrust
who wold not rew t se when wrongffullye
thus to serue and suffer styll I must
Vntruthe by trust oft tymes hathe me betrayed
misvsyng my hoppe styll to be delayed
fortune allway I haue the fownd vniost
& so with lyk reward now hast thou me payed
that ys to serue & suffyr styll I must

At moste myschyef

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At moste myschyef
At moste myschyef
I suffer gryeff
for of relyef
sith I haue noone
My lute and I
contynually
shall vs apply
to wele syth or and mon
Naught doth prevayle
to sighe or wayle
sens pety Doth fayle
in you al
Mornyng or mone
complaynte or none
hit ys alone
as in this case
ffor crueltye
moste that may be
hath sufferaunte
within youre harte
and makith bare
all my welfare
naught doo you care
how sore I smart
Noo tygurs hart
ys soo pervarte
without desarte
to wreke his Ire
And ye me kyll
for my good wyll
Lov how I spyll
for my desyre
There ys noo love
that can you move
and I cann prove
no nother way
Wherfore I must
refrayne my luste
and banyshe trust
frome me alway
Thus in myschyef & c /

pations off all my blame

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pations off all my blame
pations off all my blame
for I offendyd nowght
I wishe she knoyth the same
thowgh she haue changyd her thowght
was euer thowght so movyd
to hate wher hyt hath lovyd
patiens thowgh I haue nott
the thyng that I requier
I must off fors good woott
forbere my most desyer
fo no way cann I fynd
to sayle ageynst the wynd
pations Do what ye wyll
to worke me woo or spyght
I shall content me styll
to thynke that ons I myght
to thynke & hold my pesse
sens ther ys no redresse
pations off all my harm
seth fortune ys my foo
pations shalbe the charm
to hele me off my woo
pations withowt offens
ys a paynfull pations

My lut awake performe the last

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My lut awake performe the last
My lut awake performe the last
labor that thou and I shall wast
and end that I haue now begonne
ffor when this song ys snge and past
my lut be styll ffor I haue donne
As to be hard where ere ys none
as led to grave in marble stone
my song may perse her hart as sonne
shuld whe thene synge or walle or mone
no no my lut ffor I haue donne
The roke Dothe not so crewellye
repulse the wayuis contlye wauy
as she my sute and affecsion
so that I am past remedye
wherby my lute and I haue donne
Prowd of the spoyle that thou hast gate
of simplell harts theow lovis shote
vnkynd althoughe thou hast them wyeoun
think not he hathe his bowe fforgote
althoug my lute and I haue done
Vngence may fall on thy disdayne
that makes but game of yernyst paygne
trowe not alone vnder the sone
vnquyt to cause thy louers playne
al tho my lute and I haue donne
May chaunce the lye whetheryd and old
the wentyr nyghtes that ar so cold
playning in vayne vnto the mone
thy wishys then dar not be told
but care who lyst ffor I haue done
nd then may chaunce the to repent
the tyme that thou has lost and spent
to cause thy louer syghe and sowne
then shalt thou know bevtye but lent
and wyshe and want as I haue done
My lute be styll this ys the last
labor that thou and I shall wast
& end that I haue now begonne
ffor when this song ys songyne and past
my lut be styll ffor I haue done

that tym that myrthe dyd styre my shyppe

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that tym that myrthe dyd styre my shyppe
that tym that myrthe dyd styre my shyppe
whyche now ys fraut wythe euynes
and fortune bot not than the Lyppe
but was defence of my destres
than in my book wrot my mestres
I am yours I you may be wel suer
and shall be whyle that Lyffe dothe dure
But she hyr selffe whyche then wrot th
is nou my extryme enemy
aboue all man she dothe me hat
reioysinge of my mysery
but tho that for hyr sake I dy
I shall be hyrs she may be suer
as Longe as my Lyffe dothe induer
It us not tyme that can were out
wythe me that whons is fyrmly set
whyle nature kypes hyr cours about
my hat from hyr noman can Let
tho neuer so soer they me thret
yet I am hyrs &c
and onys I trust to se the day
renuer of my yoy and whelthe
that she thes . wourdes to me shall sey
in faythe welcoom to me my selffe
welcoum my hart welcoum my helthe
for I am theyn &c
ho me alas what woordes wer thes
in couant I myt fynd them soo
I reke not what smart or dysses
tourment or troubel payne or woo
sufferd so that I myt kno
that she uer myn I myt be suer
and should b &c

Ther was never fyle halfe so well fylyd

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Ther was never fyle halfe so well fylyd
Ther was never fyle halfe so well fylyd
fyle a fyle for any smyth Intent
as was mad a fylyng Instrument
fra another whyle I was begylyd
hath at my folly smylyd
pardon me sens that I me repent
off my lost yeres & tyme myspent
youth dyd me lede & falshed me gydyd
yet thys trust I haue off gret app
sens that decete ys ay returnabyll
off euery fors yt ys agreabyll
that therwithall be don the recumpens
the gyle for begylyd blamyd shuld be neve
& the reward but lyttyll trust for euer

the that furst my hart dyd strayn

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the that furst my hart dyd strayn
the that furst my hart dyd strayn
when that thy servant I becam
doth bynd me styll for to remayn
always yowr own as now I am
& yff ye fynd that I do fayn
with Iust judgment my self I dam
to haue dysdy wyth desdayne
yf thowght In me do groo
but styll to loue the you stedfastly
yff the proffe do no forth shoo
that I am yowrs assuerydly
lett euery welth all my yoy turne me all to woo
to beontynually
my chefyst f
yff other thoht or new request
do sese my hart but only thys
& yff wythIn my weryd brest
be hyd on thowght that mene amys
I do desyer that my nrest
may styll Incres & I to mys
that I loue best
yff my loue be hyd on spoot
off fals decete & dublylnes
or yff I mynd to slyp the knoot
by want off fayth or stedfastnes
let all my servys be forgoot
& when I wold haue sefe redres
esteme me nott
but yff that I consume In payn
wyth do burnyng syghes & farvent loue
and dyly seke non other gayn
but wyth my dedes thes wordes to proue
e thynkes off yght I shuld obtayn
that ye shuld mynd for to remoue
your gret dysdayn
and nend off thys my song
In to yowr handes I do submytt
the dedly grefe the payn so strong
wych In my hart be fyrmly shytt
and when ye lyst redres my wrog
sens well ye knoo thys paynfyll fytt
hath last to l

To my myshap alas I fynde

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To my myshap alas I fynde
To my myshap alas I fynde
that happy hap ys dangerus
& fortune workyth but her kynd
to make the Ioyfull dolorus
but all to lat hyt cumes In mynd
to wayle the want that made me blynde
so often waryd
amydes my myrth & plesantnes
such chance ys chansyd sodenly
that In dyspere to haue redres
I fynd my chefyst remedy
no new kynd off vnhappynes
shuld thus haue left me comfortles
so often wa
Who wold haue thowght that my request
shuld bryng me forth such bytter frute
but now ys hapt that I ferd lest
& all thys harm cumes by my svte
for when I thowgh me happyest
evyn then hapt all my chefe vnrest
so oftyn waryd
In better case was never none
& yet vnwares thus am I trappt
my chefe desyer doth cause me mon
& to my harm my welth ys hapt
ther ys no man but I alone
that hath such cause to sygh & mone
so oftyn w
thus am I tawght for to beware
& trust no more such all plesant chance
my happy hap hath bred thys care
& browght my myrth to grete yschance
ther ys no man that hap vyll spare
but when she lyst hys welth ys bare
thus am I waryd

Myght I as well within my songe belaye

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Myght I as well within my songe belaye
Myght I as well within my songe dbelaye
the thing I wolde as in my hart I maye
repentens shulde Drawe frome those eyes
Salt tearis with cryes, remorce and grudge of hart
causles as cause that I haue ssuffred smart
O yf myght I ellis enclose my paynfull breast
that that myght be in syght my great vnrest
ther shulde ye see tormentes remayngne
as hell of payne to move your crewell hart
causles by cause that I haue suffred smart
Or myght Ther ys in hell no suche a feruent fyere
as secret hete of inward hotte desyere
that wyll not let the flame appayre
that I haue here within my wastyd hart
causles by cause that I haue suffred smart
Yet you cause yt and ye may cause my welthe
ons cause yt then retorne vnto my helthe
and of all mene releve that man
that no thing can but crye releve this hart
causles by cause that I haue souf smart
Redres ye owght that harme that ye haue donne
yt ys no game that ye nowe haue bygonne
but worthye blame ye shall remayne
to do hym payne that knowythe not thought of
causles by cause that I haue suffred smart

If chaunce assygnyd

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If chaunce assygnyd
If chaunce assygnyd
wer to my mynd
by very kynd
of destine
yet wold I crave

Perdy I sayd hytt nott

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Perdy I sayd hytt nott
Perdy I sayd hytt nott
nor newer thowght to doo
as well as I ye wott
I haue no powr thertoo
and yff I dyd the lott
that furst dyd chayne
do never slake the knoott
but strayter to my payn
and yff I dyd ech thyng
that may do harm or woo
contynually may wryng
my hart wherso hytt goo
report may alway ryng
off shame on me for nay
yf In my hart dyd spryng
theys wordes that ye do say
and yff I dyd ech starr
that ys In hevyn aboue
may frown on me to mar
the hope I haue In loue
and yff I dyd such warv
as the browght In to troy
bryng all my lyfe afar
from all hys lust & Ioy
and yf I dyd so say
the bewty that me bownd
Incresse from day to day
more cruell to my world
wyth all the mone that may
to playnt may turn my song
my lyfe may sone decay
wythowt redresse my worng
yf be clere from thowght why do ye then complayn
why do ye then complayn
then ys thys thyng but sought
to put me to more payn
then that that ye haue wrowght
ye must hyt now redresse
off ryght therfore ye ought
such rygor to represse
and as I haue deseruyd
so grant me now my hyer
ye kno I never swarvyd
ye never found me lyer
for rakhell haue I seruyd
for lya caryd I never
and her I haue reseruyd
wythIn my hart for euer

pations for my devyse

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pations for my devyse
pations for my devyse
Impatiens for yowr part
off contraryse the gyse
ys euer ouerthwart
patiens for I am trew
the contrary for yow
patiens a good cause why
ye haue no cause at all
therfore yowrs standes awrey
may chance sumtyme to fall
pations then take hy vp
& drynke off patiens cup
patiens no fors for that
but brushe your gown agayn
patiens spurn not theratt
Let no mann knoo yowr payn
patiens evyn at my plesuer
when yowrs ys owt off mesuer
the tother was for me
thys patiens ys for yow
change when ye lyst lett se
for I haue tayne a new
patiens wyth a good wyll
ys esy to fullfyll

Nature that gaue the bee so fayre agrace

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Nature that gaue the bee so fayre agrace
Nature that gaue the bee so fayre agrace
To featch honye aftre so strange a fasion
hath taught the speydre out of the same place
To fetch poyson by strange alteration
though thys be strange yt ys a stranger thyngecase
by one kysse of secrat operation
Both thesse at ones in those thy Lyppes to fynde
In change wherof I leve my hart behynd

Lk as the swann towardes her dethe

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Lk as the swann towardes her dethe
Lk as the swann towardes her dethe
d strayne here voyce with dolfull no
ryght so syng I with wast of brethe
I dy I dy and you regard yt not
I shall infforce my ffayntyng brethe
that all that hir this dedlye note
shall cause>know that you do cause my dethe
I dy I dye and you regard yt not
your vnkyndnes hathe sworne my dethe
and chaungyd hathe my pleasant not
to paynful syghis that stoppe my brethe
I dy I dy and you regard yt not
Consumyth my lyff ffaylethe my brethe
your ffaut ys fforger of this not
I do bthe my wery brethemelting in tearis a crewell dethe
I dy I dy and you regard yt not
My fayth with me after my dethe
beryd shall to this not
I do bequeth wery brethe
I dye and you regardid it not

A my harte A what eileth the

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A my harte A what eileth the
A my harte A what eileth the
to set soo Lyght be libertye
makyng myee bounde where I was fre
a my harte A what ayleth the
Where thow warte ryde frome all Dist
voide of all payne and pensyfnes
to chauoose agayne a new mestres
a my harte a what Ayleth the
When thow warte well thow couldes not hold
to turne agayne thow warte to bolde
thus to renew my Sorowes olde
A my harte a what Ayleth the
Thow knowest full well that but of Late
I was turned owt of Loues gate
& now to gyde me to this mate
a my harte a what Ayleth the
I hopped full well all had ben doone
but now my hoppe Is tane and wone
to my turment To yeld soo Sone

Hate whome ye lyste for I care not

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Hate whome ye lyste for I care not
Hate whome ye lyste for for I care not
loue whome ye lyste and spare not
doo what ye lyst and fere not
Seymake what ye lyst and dred not
for as for me I am not
but euyn as on that rekyth not
whither ye hate or hate not
for in youre loue I dote not
wherfore I pray you forget not
But loue whome ye lyst and spare not

Love hathe agayne

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Love hathe agayne
Love hathe agayne
put me to payne
& yet all ys but lost
I serue in vayne
and am certayne
of all myslyked most
Bothe het and cold
Dothe me behold
and combr so my mynd
that when I shuld
speak and be bold
yt drawith me styll behynd
My wyttes be past
my lyf dothe wast
my comffort ys exyled
and I in hast
am lyk to tast
how love hathe me begyllid
Onles that Ryght may im
may in her syght
optaye pety & gra
why shuld a wyght
haue bewty bryght
yf marsye haue no place
Yet I alas
an in suche case
that bak I cannot goo
but styll forthe trace
A pacient pace
& suffer seckret woo /
ffor wythe the wynd
my fyered mynd
dothe styll incres in flame
and she vnkynd
that dyd me bynd
dothe torne yet all to game
yet can no paygne
make me reffrayne
nor here nor ther to range
I shall retayne
hop to attayne
a hart that ys so strange
But I requyer
the paynffull ffyer
that oft dothe mak me swere
for all my hyer
with lyk desyere
to geve here hart a hette
Then shall she prove
how I her love
& what I haue her offeryd
whiche shuld here move
ffor to remove
the payne that I hau sufferd
A better ffee /
then she geve me/
she shall of me attayne
ffor wher as she
showyd creweltye
she shall me hart optayne

Wythe seruyng styll

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Wythe seruyng styll
Wythe seruyng styll this
this haue I wonne
ffor my good wyll
to be vndonne
And ffor redres
of all my payne
disdaynffulnes
I have agayne
and ffor reward
of all my smart
lo thus vnhard
I must departe
Wherfore all ye that that
that after shall
by fortune be
as I am thrall
Exempell take
what I haue wonne
thus for hes sake
to be vndone

Dryven by desire I dyd this dede

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Dryven by desire I dyd this dede
Dryven by desire I dyd this dede
to daunger my self without cause why
to trust the vntrue not lyke to sped
to speke and promas faithfully
but now the prouf doth verefy
that whoo soo trustith ar he knoo
Doth hurt hym self and pleas his foo

I doo not reIoyse nor yet complayne

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I doo not reIoyse nor yet complayne
I doo not reIoyse nor yet complayne
both myrth and sadnes I doo refrayne
and vse the mene sens folkys wyll fayne
yet I am as I am be hit pleasure or payne
Men doo Iuge as the doo trow
sum of pleasure & sum of woo
yet for all that nothing the know
but I am as I am whersoeuer I goo.
But sens that Iudggers take that way
Let euery man his Iudgement say
I wyll hit take in sport and play
yet I am as I am woosoeuer say nay
Who Iudggis well god well them send
whoo Iudgith yll god them amende
to Iuge the best therfore intende
for I am as I am and soo wyll I ende
yet sum the at take delyght
to Iudge folkes thowght by outwarde sight
but whether the Iudge wrong or Ryght
I am as I am and soo doo I wright
I pray ye all that this doo rede
to trust hit as ye doo your cred
and thynck not that I wyll change my wede
for I am as I am how sooeuer I spede
But how that ys I Leue to you
Iudge as ye Lyst false or trew
ye know no more then afore ye knew
but I am as I am what soeuer insew
And frome this mynd I wyll not flye
but to all them that myseIudge me
I do protest as ye doo se
that I am as I am and soo wyll I Dy

University of Pennsylvania Latin MS

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University of Pennsylvania Latin MS 35 15th-16th centuries. This manuscript contains Latin sermons by John Felton from the mid-15th century. The poem on the front flyleaf was entered in the early 16th century.

I ham as I ham & so will I be.

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I ham as I ham & so will I be
I ham as I ham & so will I be.
but howe I. ham none knowithe truly
I lede my lyff in differntly.
I meane nothink but honeste.
Thoghe folkes Iugge diversly.
ytt I ham as I ham & so will I be,
Sum therebe that dothe mystrowe.
sum of pleasure & sum of woo.
yet for all that no thinke they knowe.
ffor I ham as I ham wher euer I goo,
Sun therbe that dothe delyght.
to Iugge folkes for envy & spythe.
But whether they Iuge wronge or ryght.
I ham as I ham & soo will I wryght

The workes of Geffray Chaucer newly printed

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The workes of Geffray Chaucer newly printed, with dyuers workes whiche were neuer in print before STC 5068. See also: STC 5069, STC 5074.

And nowe my pen alas/ with whiche I write

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And nowe my pen alas/ with whiche I write
And nowe my pen alas/ with whiche I write
Quaketh for drede/of that I muste endyte

O very lorde/ O loue/ o god alas

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O very lorde/ O loue/ o god alas

O very lorde/ O loue/ o god alas
That knowest best myn hert/ & al my thought
What shal my sorouful lyfe done in this caas
If I forgo that I so dere haue bought
Sens ye Creseyde & me haue fully brought
In to your grace/ and both our hertes sealed
Nowe may ye suffre alas it be repealed

O wery goste/that errest to and fro

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O wery goste/that errest to and fro
O wery goste/that errest to and fro
Why nylt thou flyen out of the wofullest
Body that euer might on grounde go
O soule/lurkyng in this woful neste
Flye forthout myn herte/ and let it preste
And folowe alway Creseyde thy lady dere
Thy right place is nowe no lenger here

what I may done I shal/whyle I may dure

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what I may done I shal/whyle I may dure
what I may done I shal/whyle I may dure
On lyue/ in turment and in cruel payne
This infortune/or this disauenture
Alone as I was borne I wol complayne
Ne neuer wol I sene it shyne or rayne
But ende I wol as Edippe in derknesse
My sorouful lyfe/ and dyen in distresse

O ye louers/that hygh vpon the whele

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O ye louers/that hygh vpon the whele
O ye louers/that hygh vpon the whele
Ben sette of fortune/in good auenture
God lene that ye fynden aye loue of stele
And longe mote your lyfe in ioye endure
But whan ye comen by my sepulture
Remembreth that your felowe resteth there
For I loued eke/though I vnworthy were

For thylke grounde/ that beareth the wedes wicke

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For thylke grounde/ that beareth the wedes wicke
For thylke grounde/ that beareth the wedes wicke
Beareth eke these holsome herbes/as ful ofte
Next the foule nettle/rough and thicke
The rose wexeth/soote/smoth/ and softe
And next the valey is the hyll a lofte
And next the derke night the glade morowe
And also ioye is next the syne of sorowe

Womans herte vnto no cruelte

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Womans herte vnto no cruelte
Womans herte vnto no cruelte
Enclyned is / But they be charytable
Pytous/ deuoute/ ful of humylite
Shamefaste/ debonayre/ and amyable
Dredeful / and of wordes measurable
What women these haue not parauenture
Foloweth not the way of her nature

Is this a faire auaunt/is this honour

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Is this a faire auaunt/is this honour
Is this a faire auaunt/is this honour
A man him selfe accuse thus and diffame
Is is good to confesse him selfe a traytour
And bring a woman to sclaundrous name
And tel howe he her body hath do shame
No worshipe may he thus to him conquer
But great disclaunder vnto him and her

To her nay/ yet was it no represe

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To her nay/ yet was it no represe
To her nay/ yet was it no represe
For al for vertue was that she wrought
But he that brewed hath al this myschefe
That spake so fayre/ & falsely inward thought
His be the sclaunder/ as it by reason ought
And vnto her thanke perpetuel
That in suche a nede helpe can so wel

If al the erthe were parchement scribable

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If al the erthe were parchement scribable
If al the erthe were parchement scribable
Spedy for the hande/and al maner wode
Were hewed and proporcioned to pennes able
Al water ynke/in damme or in flode
Euery man beyng a parfyte scribe & good
The cursydnesse yet and disceyte of women
Coude not be shewed by the meane of penne

O marble herte/and yet more harde parde

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O marble herte/and yet more harde parde
O marble herte/and yet more harde parde
Whiche mercy may not perce for no labour
More strange to bowe thna is a myghty tre
What auayleth you to shewe so great rigour
Pleaseth it you more to se me dye this hour
Before your eyen/for your disporte and play
Than for to shewe some comforte and socour
To respyte dethe/whiche chaseth me alway

Alas/what shulde it be to you preiudyce

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Alas/what shulde it be to you preiudyce
Alas/what shulde it be to you preiudyce
If that a man do loue you faythfully
To your worshyp/eschewynge euery vyce
So am I yours/and wyl be veryly
I chalenge nought of right/and reason why
For I am hole submyt vnto your seruyce
Right as ye lyst it be/right so wyl I
To bynde my selfe/where I was in fraunchise

Howe frendly was Medea to Iason

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Howe frendly was Medea to Iason
Howe frendly was Medea to Iason
In conqueryng of the flece of golde
Howe falsely quyt he her trewe affection
By whom vyctorie he gate as he wolde
Howe may this man for shame be so bolde
To falsen her/that fro his dethe and shame
Him kept/ and gate him so great prise & name

For though I had you to morowe agayne

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For though I had you to morowe agayne
For though I had you to morowe agayne
I myght as wel holde April from rayne
As holde you to maken stedfast
Almighty god/of trouthe the souerayne
Wher is the trouth of man/who hath it slayne
She that hem loueth/shal hem fynde as fast
As in a tempest is a rotten maste
Is that a tame beest/that is aye fayne
To renne away/whan he is lefte agaste

If it be so that ye so cruel be

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If it be so that ye so cruel be
If it be so that ye so cruel be
That of his dethe you lysteth nought to retch
That is so trewe and worthy/ as we see
No more than of a iaper or a wretch
If ye be suche/your beaute may nat stretch
To make amendes of so cruel a dede
Auysement is good before the nede

Wo worth the fayre Geme vertulesse/

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Wo worth the fayre Geme vertulesse
Wo worth the fayre Geme vertulesse/
Wo worthe that herbe also that dothe no bote
Wo worthe the beaute that is routhlesse
Wo worth that wight that trede eche vnder fote
And ye that ben of beaute croppe and rote
If therwithal in you ne be no routhe
Than to harme ye lyuen by by trouthe

For loue is yet the moste stormy lyfe

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For loue is yet the moste stormy lyfe
For loue is yet the moste stormy lyfe
Right of him selfe/that euer was begonne
For euer some mistrust/or nyce stryfe
There is in loue/some cloude ouer the sonne
Therto we wretched women nothyng conne
Whan vs is wo/but wepe and syt and thynke
Our wreche is this/our owne wo to drinke

Also wicked tonges ben so prest

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Also wicked tonges ben so prest
Also wicked tonges ben so prest
To speke vs harme/eke men ben so vntrewe
That right anon as cessed is her lest
So cesseth loue/ and forthe to loue a newe
But harme ydo is done/who so it rewe
For though these men for loue hem first to rende
Ful sharpe begynnyng breketh ofte at ende

And who that saythe that for to loue is vyce

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And who that saythe that for to loue is vyce
And who that saythe that for to loue is vyce
Or thraldom/though he fele in it distresse
He eyther is enuyous/or right nyce
Or is vnmyghty for his shreudnesse
To louen for suche maner folke I gesse
Diffamen loue/as nothyng of him knowe
They speken/but they bente neuer his bowe

But nowe helpe god/to quenche al this sorow

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But nowe helpe god/to quenche al this sorow
But nowe helpe god/to quenche al this sorow
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