Thomas Wyatt (Томас Уайетт)

In Spain

Tagus, farewell! that westward with thy streams
Turns up the grains of gold already tried
With spur and sail, for I go to seek the Thames
Gainward the sun that shewth her wealthy pride,
And to the town which Brutus sought by dreams,
Like bended moon doth lend her lusty side.
My king, my country, alone for whome I live,
Of mighty love the wings for this me give. 

1. Madame, Withouten Many Words
2. Mine Own John Poynz
3. A Description of Such a One As He Would Love
4. What Needeth these Threnning Words and Wasted Wind
5. To His Lute

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