Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503–42). The Poetical Works. 1880.
Songs and SonnetsThe Lover compareth his State to a Ship in perilous Storm tossed on the Sea
M
Through sharp seas, in winter nights, doth pass
’Tween rock and rock; and eke my foe, alas,
That is my lord, steereth with cruelness:
And every hour, a thought in readiness,
As though that death were light in such a case.
An endless wind doth tear the sail apace
Of forced sighs and trusty fearfulness;
A rain of tears, a cloud of dark disdain,
Have done the wearied cords great hinderance:
Wreathed with error, and with ignorance;
The stars be hid that lead me to this pain;
Drown’d is reason that should be my comfort,
And I remain, despairing of the port.