Love
In dowtfull brest, whilst moderly pitie
From The Poems of Sir Thomas Wiat (ed. A. K. Foxwell, 1913)
Love
In dowtfull brest, whilst moderly pitie,
With furyous famyn stondyth at debate
Sayth thebrew moder : " O child unhappye
" Retorne thi blowd where thou hadst milk of late ;
" Yeld me those lyms that I made unto thee,
" And entre there where thou wert generat ;
" For of on body agaynst all nature,
" To a nothr must I make sepulture.
Cite this poem
MLA
Wyatt, Thomas. “In dowtfull brest, whilst moderly pitie.” Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/wyatt/59/.
Chicago
Wyatt, Thomas. “In dowtfull brest, whilst moderly pitie.” Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/wyatt/59/.
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