Sir Thomas Wyatt
Biography of Sir Thomas Wyatt
Thomas Wyatt was born at Allington Castle in Kent, and educated at St John's College, Cambridge. While travelling as a diplomat for Henry VIII he developed his interest in Continental poetry; he was the first English poet to use the Italian forms of the sonnet and terza rima, and the French rondeau. His translation of the Penitential Psalms is based on a version by the Italian poet Pietro Aretino.
In the course of his career Wyatt served his King Henry in a variety of offices, including those of Marshal of Calais, Sheriff of Kent and Ambassador to Spain, and he was also jailed several times. His first imprisonment, in 1534, was for brawling; two years later his relationship with the disgraced Anne Boleyn resulted in a short spell in the Tower of London. Thomas and Anne had been lovers before her marriage to Henry, and his sense of loss at their separation forms the subject of the famous sonnet 'Whoso List To Hunt'.
Wyatt was restored to favour and knighted in 1537, and spent the next two years on his embassy to the court of Charles V of Spain. In 1540 however, his trusted patron Thomas Cromwell was executed, leaving him without an ally at court. The following year Wyatt was accused of treason by his enemies and imprisoned in the Tower once more. He managed to secure his own release but died of a fever soon afterwards.
This page is based on the copyrighted Wikipedia Sir Thomas Wyatt; it is used under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. You may redistribute it, verbatim or modified, providing that you comply with the terms of the CC-BY-SA.
Sir Thomas Wyatt Poems
Is It Possible
Is it possible That so high debate, So sharp, so sore, and of such rate, Should end so soon and was begun so late? Is it possible?
Farewell Love And All Thy Laws Forever
Farewell love and all thy laws forever; Thy baited hooks shall tangle me no more. Senec and Plato call me from thy lore To perfect wealth, my wit for to endeavour.
My Lute Awake
My lute awake! perform the last Labour that thou and I shall waste, And end that I have now begun; For when this song is sung and past, My lute be still, for I have done.
Farewell, Love, and all thy laws for ever: Thy baited hooks shall tangle me no more. Senec and Plato call me from thy lore, To perfect wealth my wit for to endeavour.
I Find No Peace
I find no peace, and all my war is done. I fear and hope. I burn and freeze like ice. I fly above the wind, yet can I not arise; And nought I have, and all the world I season.
And Wilt Thou Leave Me Thus?
And wilt thou leave me thus? Say nay, say nay, for shame, To save thee from the blame Of all my grief and grame;
They Flee From Me
They flee from me that sometime did me seek With naked foot, stalking in my chamber. I have seen them gentle, tame, and meek,
Lux, My Fair Falcon
Lux, my fair falcon, and your fellows all, How well pleasant it were your liberty. Ye not forsake me that fair might ye befall, But they that sometime liked my company,
WHAT should I say? --Since Faith is dead, And Truth away From you is fled?
Forget Not Yet: The Lover Beseecheth His...
FORGET not yet the tried intent Of such a truth as I have meant; My great travail so gladly spent, Forget not yet!
My Galley Chargèd With Forgetfulness
My galley chargèd with forgetfulness Through sharp seas in winter nights doth pass 'Twene rock and rock; and eke mine enemy, alas, That is my lord, steereth with cruelness.
Forget Not Yet The Tried Intent
Forget not yet the tried intent Of such a truth as I have meant; My great travail so gladly spent, Forget not yet.
Abide And Abide And Better Abide
I abide and abide and better abide, And after the old proverb, the happy day; And ever my lady to me doth say, "Let me alone and I will provide."
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,
They Flee From Me
They flee from me that sometime did me seek
With naked foot, stalking in my chamber.
I have seen them gentle, tame, and meek,
That now are wild and do not remember
That sometime they put themself in danger
To take bread at my hand; and now they range,
Busily seeking with a continual change.
Thanked be fortune it hath been otherwise