| Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503–42). The Poetical Works. 1880. | | | | Odes | | That Time, Humbleness, and Prayer, can soften every thing save his Lady’s Heart |
| | | PROCESS of time worketh such wonder, | |
| That water which is of kind so soft, | |
| Doth pierce the marble stone asunder, | |
| By little drops falling from aloft. | |
| And yet a heart that seems so tender, | 5 |
| Receiveth no drop of the stilling tears | |
| That alway still cause me to render, | |
| The vain plaint that sounds not in her ears. | |
| So cruel, alas! is nought alive, | |
| So fierce, so froward, so out of frame, | 10 |
| But some way, some time may so contrive | |
| By means the wild to temper and tame. | |
| And I that always have sought, and seek | |
| Each place, each time for some lucky day, | |
| This fierce tiger, less I find her meek, | 15 |
| And more denied the longer I pray. | |
| The lion in his raging furour | |
| Forbears that sueth, meekness for his [boot]; | |
| And thou, alas! in extreme dolour, | |
| The heart so low thou treads under thy foot. | 20 |
| Each fierce thing, lo! how thou dost exceed, | |
| And hides it under so humble a face! | |
| And yet the humble to help at need | |
| Nought helpeth time, humbleness, nor place. | | | | |
|
|
