THE LOVER REJOICETH THE ENJOYING|
OF HIS LOVE.
NCE, as methought, Fortune me kissed|
And bade me ask what I thought best,
And I should have it as me list,
Therewith to set my heart in rest,
I asked but my lady's heart,
To have for evermore mine own ;
Then at an end were all my smart ;
Then should I need no more to moan.
Yet for all that a stormy blast
Had overturn'd this goodly nay ;1
And fortune seemed at the last
That to her promise she said nay.
But like as one out of despair,
To sudden hope revived I ;
Now Fortune sheweth herself so fair,
That I content me wondrously.
My most desire my hand may reach,
My will is alway at my hand ;
Me need not long for to beseech
Her, that hath power me to command.
What earthly thing more can I crave ?
What would I wish more at my will ?
Nothing on earth more would I have ?
Save that I have, to have it still.
For Fortune now hath kept her promess,
In granting me my most desire :
Of my sovereign2 I have redress,
And I content me with my hire.
Yeowell, James, Ed. The Poetical Works of Sir Thomas Wyatt.
London: George Bell and Sons, 1904. 30-31.
||to the Works of Sir Thomas Wyatt|
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Created by Anniina Jokinen on April 26, 2000. Last updated March 6, 2007.