Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503–42)

Alle digte af Sir Thomas Wyatt på Kalliope ordnet alfabetisk efter titel.

A

Alas, madame, for stelyng of a kysse

B

Behold, love, thy power how she dispiseth

Blame not my lute for he must sownd

C

Caesar, when that the traytour of Egipt

F

Farewell, Love, and all thy lawes for ever

G

Goo, burnyng sighes, Vnto the frosen hert

H

Helpe me to seke for I lost it there

I

I fynde no peace and all my warr is done

M

Madame, withouten many wordes

My galy charged with forgetfulnes

My hert I gave the, not to do it payn

My lute, awake! perfourme the last

O

Ons as me thought fortune me kyst

S

Some tyme I fled the fyre that me brent

Som fowles there be that have so perfaict sight

Syghes ar my foode, drynke are my teares

T

The longe love that in my thought doeth harbar

They fle from me that sometyme did me seke

Thou hast no faith of him that hath none

Through out the world, if it wer sought

W

Was I never yet of your love greeved

What menythe thys when I lye alone?

What no, perdy, ye may be sure!

What vaileth trouth or by it to take payn

When first mine eyes did view, and marke

Who so list to hounte, I know where is an hynde

Y

Ye old mule that think your self so fayre

Yf amourous faith, an hert vnfayned

Yf it be so that I forsake the