| Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503–42). The Poetical Works. 1880. | | | | Odes | | To his unkind Love |
| | | WHAT rage is this? what furor? of what kind? | |
| What power? what plague doth weary thus my mind? | |
| Within my bones to rankle is assigned, | |
| What poison pleasant sweet? | |
| Lo, see, mine eyes flow with continual tears, | 5 |
| The body still away sleepless it wears, | |
| My food nothing my fainting strength repairs, | |
| Nor doth my limbs sustain. | |
| In deep wide wound, the deadly stroke doth turn | |
| To cureless scar that never shall return: | 10 |
| Go to, triumph, rejoice thy goodly turn, | |
| Thy friend thou dost oppress. | |
| Oppress thou dost, and hast of him no cure, | |
| Nor yet my plaint no pity can procure, | |
| Fierce tiger fell, hard rock without recure, | 15 |
| Cruel rebel to love. | |
| Once may thou love, never beloved again, | |
| So love thou still, and not thy love obtain, | |
| So wrathful love, with spites of just disdain, | |
| May threat thy cruel heart. | 20 | | | |
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