Love
The fructe of all the servise that I serve
From The Poems of Sir Thomas Wiat (ed. A. K. Foxwell, 1913)
Love
The fructe of all the servise that I serve
Dispaire doeth repe, such haples hap have I ;
But tho he have no powre to make me swarve,
Yet by the fire for colde I fele I dye :
In paradis for hunger still I sterve :
And in the flowde for thurste to deth I drye;
So Tantalus ane I and yn worse payne,
Amyds my helpe, and helples doth remayne.
Cite this poem
MLA
Wyatt, Thomas. “The fructe of all the servise that I serve.” Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/wyatt/67/.
Chicago
Wyatt, Thomas. “The fructe of all the servise that I serve.” Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/wyatt/67/.
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