The Long Love That in My Thought Doth Harbor
Yet was I never of your love aggrieved
Was never file yet half so well yfiled
The lively sparks that issue from those eyes
Such vain thought as wonted to mislead me
Unstable dream, according to the place
Yet that in love find luck and sweet abundance
If waker care ; if sudden pale colour
Caesar, when that the traitor of Egypt
Each man me telleth I change most my devise
Some fowls there be that have so perfect sight
Because I still kept thee from lies and blame
I find no peace, and all my war is done
My Galley charged with forgetfulness
Avising the bright beams of those fair eyes
My love to scorn, my service to retain
Such is the course that nature's kind hath wrought
Ever my hap is slack and slow in coming
Love, Fortune, and my mind which do remember
How oft have I, my dear and cruel foe
Like unto these unmeasurable mountains
If amorous faith, or if a heart unfeigned
My heart I gave thee, not to do it pain
The flaming sighs that boil within my breast
The pillar perish'd is whereto I leant
Farewell, Love, and all thy laws for ever
Whoso list to hunt? I know where is an hind
Divers doth use
I abide, and abide ; and better abide
Though I myself be bridled of my mind
To rail or jest, ye know I use it not


Behold, Love, thy power how she despiseth
What 'vaileth truth, or by it to take pain ?
Go, burning sighs, unto the frozen heart
Ye old mule ! that think yourself so fair


My Lute Awake!
Once, As Methought, Fortune Me Kissed
They Flee From Me
The restful place ! renewer of my smart
It may be good, like it who list
In faith I wot not what to say
There Was Never Nothing More Me Pained
Patience ! though I have not
Though I Cannot Your Cruelty Constrain
Blame Not My Lute
My Pen ! Take Pain
The heart and service to you proffer'd
Is It Possible?
And Wilt Thou Leave Me Thus?
Since so ye please to hear me plain
Forget Not Yet The Tried Intent
What Should I Say!


Sometime I fled the fire that me so brent
The Furious Gun
Of Such As Had Forsaken Him [Lux ! my fair falcon]
The Lover Hopeth of Better Chance [He is not dead, that sometime had a fall]
Description of a Gun [Vulcan begat me]
Of the Feigned Friend. [Right true it is]
The Courtier's Life [In court to serve]
Of the Mean and Sure Estate [Stand, whoso list, upon the slipper wheel]
Of Dissembling Words [Throughout the world]
Madam, Withouten Many Words
A Riddle of a Gift Given By a Lady [A lady gave me a gift]
Speak thou and speed

Of the Mean and Sure Estate, Written to John Poins [My mother's maids, when they did sew and spin]
Mine Own John Poynz
A spending hand


V. Innocentia Veritas Viat Fides Circumdederunt me inimici mei
With Serving Still

to Sir Thomas Wyatt