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First Line: Patience, though I have not
Last Line: Is a painful patience.
Alternate Author Name(s): Wyat, Thomas
Variant Title(s): Egerton Manuscript: 39
Subject(s): Fortune; Patience


Patience, though I have not
The thing that I require,
I must of force, God wot,
Forbear my most desire;
For no ways can I find
To sail against the wind.

Patience, do what they will
To work me woe or spite,
I shall content me still
To think both day and night,
To think and hold my peace,
Since there is no redress.

Patience, withouten blame
For I offended naught;
I know they know the same,
Though they have changed their thought.
Was ever thought so moved
To hate that it hath loved?

Patience of all my harm,
For fortune is my foe;
Patience must be the charm
To heal me of my woe;
Patience without offense
Is a painful patience.





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