Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503–42). The Poetical Works. 1880.
OdesThe deceived Lover sueth only for Liberty
I
Were to my mind,
By very kind
Of destiny;
Yet would I crave
Nought else to have,
But life and liberty.
Then were I sure,
I might endure
The displeasure
Of cruelty;
Where now I plain,
Alas! in vain,
Lacking my life, for liberty.
For without th’ one,
Th’ other is gone,
And there can none
It remedy;
If th’ one be past,
Th’ other doth waste,
And all for lack of liberty.
And so I drive,
As yet alive,
Although I strive
With misery;
Drawing my breath,
Looking for death,
And loss of life for liberty.
But thou that still,
Mayst at thy will,
Turn all this ill
Adversity;
For the repair,
Of my welfare,
Grant me but life and liberty.
And if not so,
Then let all go
To wretched woe,
And let me die;
For th’ one or th’ other,
There is none other;
My death, or life with liberty.