SONG: 29 by THOMAS WYATT

I see that chance hath chosen me
Thus secretly to live in pain,
And to another given the fee
Of all my loss to have the gain.
By chance assigned, thus do I serve,
And other have that I deserve.

Unto myself sometime alone
I do lament my woeful case,
But what availeth me to moan,
Since truth and pity hath no place
In them, to whom I sue and serve,
And other have that I deserve?

To seek by mean to change this mind,
Alas, I prove it will not be;
For in my heart I cannot find
Once to refrain, but still agree,
As bound by force, alway to serve,
And other have that I deserve.

Such is the fortune that I have,
To love them most that love me least;
And to my pain to seek and crave
The thing that other have possessed;
So thus in vain alway I serve,
And other have that I deserve.

And till I may appease the heat,
If that my hap will hap so well,
To wail my woe my heart shall fret,
Whose pensive pain my tongue can tell.
Yet thus unhappy must I serve,
And other have that I deserve.

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

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