Poem by Thomas Wyatt

* * *

With serving still
This I have won,
For my goodwill
To be undone.

And for redress
Of all my pain,
Disdainfulness
I have again.

And for reward
Of all my smart,
Lo, thus unheard,
I must depart.

Wherefore all ye
That after shall
By fortune be,
As I am, thrall,

Example take
What I have won,
Thus for her sake
To be undone. 

1. In Spain
2. What Needeth these Threnning Words and Wasted Wind
3. To His Lute
4. A Description of Such a One As He Would Love
5. I Abide and Abide and Better Abide

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