Poem by Thomas Wyatt

* * *

Alas, madam, for stealing of a kiss
Have I so much your mind there offended?
Have I then done so grievously amiss
That by no means it may be amended?

Then revenge you, and the next way is this:
Another kiss shall have my life ended,
For to my mouth the first my heart did suck;
The next shall clean out of my breast it pluck.

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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