Though I cannot your cruelty constrain
For my good will to favour me again,
Though my true and faithful love
Have no power your heart to move,
Yet rue upon my pain.
Though I your thrall must evermore remain
And for your sake my liberty restrain,
The greatest grace that I do crave
Is that ye would vouchsafe
To rue upon my pain.
Though I have not deserved to obtain
So high reward but this to serve in vain,
Though I shall have no redress,
Yet of right ye can no less
But rue upon my pain.
But I see well that your high disdain
Will nowise grant that I shall tahat attain;
Yet ye must grant at the least
This my poor and small request
Rejoice not at my pain.
Sir Thomas Wyatt
I lovee this poem...
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