Love
I lede a liff unpleasant, nothing glad
From The Poems of Sir Thomas Wiat (ed. A. K. Foxwell, 1913)
Love
I lede a liff unpleasant, nothing glad :
Crye and complaynt offerre voydes Joyfulnesse :
So chaungethe unrest that nought shall fade :
Payne and dyspyse hathe altered plesantnes ;
Ago, long synnys that she hathe truly made
Disdayne for trowght, sett lyght yn stedfastnes,
I have cause goode to syng this song :
Playne or reioyse, who felythe wele or wrong.
Cite this poem
MLA
Wyatt, Thomas. “I lede a liff unpleasant, nothing glad.” Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/wyatt/61/.
Chicago
Wyatt, Thomas. “I lede a liff unpleasant, nothing glad.” Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/wyatt/61/.
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