Verse > Sir Thomas Wyatt > Poetical Works
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Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503–42).  The Poetical Works.  1880.
 
Odes
A Reproof to such as slander Love
 
  LEAVE thus to slander love!
Though evil with such it prove,
Which often use
Love to misuse,
And loving to reprove;        5
Such cannot choose
For their refuse
But thus to slander Love.
  Flee not so much the snare!
Love seldom causeth care.        10
But by deserts
And crafty parts
Some lose their own welfare.
Be true of heart;
And for no smart,        15
Flee not so much the snare.
  To love, and not to be wise,
Is but a mad device;
Such love doth last
As sure and fast,        20
As chance on the dice,
A bitter taste
Comes at the last,
To love, and not to be wise.
  Such be the pleasant days,        25
Such be the honest ways,
There is no man
That fully can
Know it, but he that says
Loving to ban        30
Were folly then;
Such be the pleasant days.
  Love is a pleasant fire
Kindled by true desire;
And though the pain        35
Cause men to plain,
Speed well is oft the hire.
Then though some feign
And lose the gain,
Love is a pleasant fire.        40
  Who most doeth slander love,
The deed must alway prove.
Truth shall excuse
That you accuse
For slander, and reprove.        45
Not by refuse,
But by abuse,
You most do slander love!
  Ye grant it is a snare,
And would us not beware.        50
Lest that your train
Should be too plain
Ye colour all the care;
Lo! how you feign
Pleasure for pain,        55
And grant it is a snare
  To love, and to be wise.
It were a strange device:
But from that taste
Ye vow the fast,        60
On cinques though run your die
Ambsace may haste
Your pain to waste.
To love and to be wise.
  Of all such pleasant days,        65
Of all such pleasant plays,
Without desart,
You have your part,
And all the world so says;
Save that poor heart        70
That for more smart,
Feeleth not such pleasant days.
  Such fire, and such heat,
Did never make ye sweat;
For without pain        75
You best obtain
Too good speed, and too great.
Whoso doeth plain
You best do feign,
Such tire, and such heat.        80
Who now doth slander Love?
 
 
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