Verse > Sir Thomas Wyatt > Poetical Works
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Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503–42).  The Poetical Works.  1880.
 
Odes
The forsaken Lover consoleth himself with remembrance of past Happiness
 
  SPITE hath no power to make me sad,
Nor scornfulness to make me plain.
It doth suffice that once I had,
And so to leave it is no pain.
  Let them frown on that least doth gain,        5
Who did rejoice must needs be glad;
And though with words thou wee’nst to reign,
It doth suffice that once I had.
  Since that in checks thus overthwart,
And coyly looks thou dost delight;        10
It doth suffice that mine thou wert,
Though change hath put thy faith to flight.
  Alas! it is a peevish spite,
To yield thyself and then to part;
But since thou force thy faith so light,        15
It doth suffice that mine thou wert.
  And since thy love doth thus decline,
And in thy heart such hate doth grow;
It doth suffice that thou wert mine,
And with good will I quite it so.        20
  Sometime my friend, farewell my foe,
Since thou change I am not thine;
But for relief of all my woe,
It doth suffice that thou wert mine.
  Praying you all that hear this song,        25
To judge no wight, nor none to blame;
It doth suffice she doth me wrong,
And that herself doth know the same.
  And though she change it is no shame,
Their kind it is, and hath been long;        30
Yet I protest she hath no name;
It doth suffice she doth me wrong.
 
 
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