Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SONG: 107, by THOMAS WYATT


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SONG: 107, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Absence, alas / causeth me pass
Last Line: In this dolour.
Alternate Author Name(s): Wyat, Thomas
Subject(s): Absence; Death; Love; Trust; Separation; Isolation; Dead, The


Absence, alas,
Causeth me pass
From all solace
To great grievance.
Yet though that I
Absent must be,
I trust that she
Hath remembrance.

Where I her find
Loving and kind,
There my poor mind
Eased shall be.
And for my part,
My love and heart
Shall not revert
Though I should die.

Beauty, pleasure,
Riches, treasure,
Or to endure
In prison strong
Shall not me make
Her to forsake
Though I should lack
Her never so long.

For once trust I,
Ere that I die,
For to espy
The happy hour,
At liberty
With her to be
That pities me
In this dolour.





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