Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SONG: 55, by THOMAS WYATT


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SONG: 55, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Like as the wind with raging blast
Last Line: Of evil sown seed such is the fruit.
Alternate Author Name(s): Wyat, Thomas
Variant Title(s): Of Love
Subject(s): Beauty; Desire; Grief; Life; Wind; Sorrow; Sadness


Like as the wind with raging blast
Doth cause each tree to bow and bend,
Even so do I spend my time in waste,
My life consuming unto an end.

For as the flame by force doth quench the fire,
And running streams consume the rain,
Even so do I myself desire
To augment my grief and deadly pain.

Whereas I find that hot is hot,
And cold is cold, by course of kind,
So shall I knit an endless knot;
Such fruit in love, alas, I find.

When I foresaw those crystal streams,
Whose beauty doth cause my mortal wound,
I little thought within those beams
So sweet a venom for to have found.

I feel and see my own decay,
As one that beareth flame in his breast,
Forgetful thought to put away,
The thing that bredeth my unrest.

Like as the fly doth seek the flame
And afterward playeth in the fire,
Who findeth her woe and seeketh her game,
Whose grief doth grow of her own desire.

Like as the spider doth draw her line,
As labor lost so is my suit;
The gain is hers, the loss is mine,
Of evil sown seed such is the fruit.





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