Verse > Sir Thomas Wyatt > Poetical Works
Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503–42).  The Poetical Works.  1880.
The Lover, hopeless of greater Happiness, contenteth himself with only Pity
THO’ I cannot your cruelty constrain,
For my good will to favour me again;
Though my true and faithful love
Have no power your heart to move,
        Yet rue upon my pain!        5
Tho’ I your thrall must evermore remain,
And for your sake my liberty restrain;
The greatest grace that I do crave
Is that ye would vouchsave
        To rue upon my pain!        10
Though I have not deserved to obtain
So high reward, but thus to serve in vain,
Though I shall have no redress,
Yet of right ye can no less,
        But rue upon my pain!        15
But I see well, that your high disdain
Will no wise grant that I shall more attain;
Yet ye must grant at the last
This my poor, and small request;
        Rejoice not at my pain!        20

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