Sir Thomas Wyatt


WHEN FORTUNE SMILES NOT, ONLY

PATIENCE COMFORTETH.

PATIENCE! though I have not
The thing that I require;
I must, of force, God wot,
Forbear my most desire,
For no ways can I find
To sail against the wind.
     Patience! do what they will
To work me woe or spite;
I shall content me still
To think both day and night;
To think, and hold my peace,
Since there is no redress.
     Patience! withouten blame,
For I offended nought;
I know they know the same,
Though they have changed their thought.
Was ever thought so moved,
To hate that it hath loved ?
     Patience of all my harm,
For Fortune is my foe;
Patience must be the charm
To heal me of my woe.
Patience without offence
Is a painful Patience.




Text source:

The Poetical Works of Sir Thomas Wyatt.
Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1854.



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