The Lover professeth himself constant. Songs and Epigrams. Sir Thomas Wyatt. 1880. The Poetical Works

Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503–42). The Poetical Works. 1880.

Songs and Epigrams

The Lover professeth himself constant


WITHIN my breast I never thought it gain
Of gentle minds the freedom for to lose;
Nor in my heart sank never such disdain,
To be a forger, faults for to disclose:
Nor I cannot endure the truth to glose,	5
To set a gloss upon an earnest pain:
Nor I am not in number one of those
That list to blow retreat to every train.