The Long Love

The long love that in my thought doth harbour,
And in mine heart doth keep his residence,
Into my face presseth with bold pretence,
And therein campeth, spreading his banner.
She that me learneth to love and suffer,
And wills that my trust and lust's negligence
Be reined by reason, shame, and reverence,
With his hardiness taketh displeasure.
Wherewithal, unto the heart's forest he fleeth,
Leaving his enterprise with pain and cry;
And there him hideth, and not appeareth.
What may I do when my master feareth
But in the field with him to live or die?
For good is the life ending faithfully.

by Sir Thomas Wyatt

Other poems of WYATT (43)

Comments (11)

I like this poem! its cute
There is so much beauty all around and we poets must capture them and bring them out of their hiding place. Well written. Thanks for sharing.
very true we devour beauty with those have brought it out beautifully
nice..i've been thinking about this subject a lot recently and wondering if you didn't have your senses could something still be beautiful?
Great Title and no real way to explain other then Beautiful.Great Job! 10
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