Poem of the day

A Complaint of His Lady’s Cruelty
by Thomas Wyatt (1503-1542)

Since ye delight to know,
That my torment and woe
Should still increase
Without release,
I shall enforce me so,
That life and all shall go
For to content your cruelness.

And so this grievous train,
That I too long sustain,
Shall sometime cesse,
And have redress,
And you also remain,
Full pleased with my pain,
For to content your cruelness.

Unless that be too light,
And that ye would ye might
See the distress
And heaviness,
Of one slain outright,
Therewith to please your sight,
And to content your cruelness.

Then in your cruel mood
Would God forthwith ye would
With force express
My heart oppress,
To do your heart such good,
To see me bathe in blood,
For to content your cruelness.

Then could ye ask no more;
Then should ye ease my sore,
And the excess
Of my distress;
And you should evermore
Defam├Ęd be therefor,
For to repent your cruelness.

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