Verse > Sir Thomas Wyatt > Poetical Works
Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503–42).  The Poetical Works.  1880.
The Lover excuseth him of Words, wherewith he was unjustly charged
  PERDIE! I said it not;
Nor never thought to do:
As well as I, ye wot,
I have no power thereto.
And if I did, the lot,        5
That first did me enchain,
May never slake the knot,
But straight it to my pain!
  And if I did each thing,
That may do harm or woe,        10
Continually may wring
My heart, where so I go!
Report may always ring
Of shame on me for aye,
If in my heart did spring        15
The words that you do say.
  And if I did, each star,
That is in heaven above,
May frown on me to mar
The hope I have in love!        20
And if I did, such war
As they brought unto Troy,
Bring all my life as far
From all his lust and joy!
  And if I did so say,        25
The beauty that me bound,
Increase from day to day
More cruel to my wound!
With all the moan that may,
To plaint may turn my song;        30
My life may soon decay,
Without redress, by wrong!
  If I be clear from thought,
Why do you then complain?
Then is this thing but sought        35
To turn my heart to pain.
Then this that you have wrought,
You must it now redress;
Of right therefore you ought
Such rigour to repress.        40
  And as I have deserved,
So grant me now my hire;
You know I never swerved,
You never found me liar.
For Rachel have I served,        45
For Leah cared I never;
And her I have reserved
Within my heart for ever.

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