Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SONG: 23, by THOMAS WYATT



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SONG: 23, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: So unwarely was never no man caught
Last Line: This restless life I may not lead.
Alternate Author Name(s): Wyat, Thomas
Subject(s): Desire; Grief; Hearts; Life; Sorrow; Sadness


So unwarely was never no man caught
With steadfast look upon a goodly face
As I of late: for suddenly, methought,
My heart was torn out of his place.

Thorough mine eye the stroke from hers did slide,
Directly down unto my heart it ran;
In help whereof the blood thereto did glide,
And left my face both pale and wan.

Then was I like a man for woe amazed,
Or like the bird that flyeth into the fire,
For while that I on her beauty gazed,
The more I burnt in my desire.

Anon the blood stert in my face again,
Inflamed with heat that it had at my heart,
And brought therewith thereout in every vein
A quickened heat with pleasant smart.

Then was I like the straw, when that the flame
Is driven therein by force and rage of wind;
I cannot tell, alas, what I shall blame,
Nor what to seek, nor what to find.

But well I wot the grief holds me so sore
In heat and cold betwixt hope and dread,
That but her help to health doth me restore,
This restless life I may not lead.





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