Disdainfulness
I have again;

(Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503?-1542), British poet. With Serving Still (l. 7-8). . . Complete Poems [Sir Thomas Wyatt]. R. A. Rebholz, ed. (1978) Penguin Books.)

Is it possible
That any may find
Within one heart so diverse mind,
To change or turn as weather and wind?
Is it possible?

(Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503?-1542), British poet. Is It Possible? (L. 11-15). . . Complete Poems [Sir Thomas Wyatt]. R. A. Rebholz, ed. (1978) Penguin Books.)

Trouth is trayed where craft is in ure;
But though ye have had my hertes cure,
Trow ye I dote withoute ending?
What no, perdy!

(Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503?-1542), British poet. What no, perdy! Ye may be sure! (L. 6-9). . . Complete Poems [Sir Thomas Wyatt]. R. A. Rebholz, ed. (1978) Penguin Books.)

They flee from me that sometime did me seek,
With naked foot stalking in my chamber.

(Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503?-1542), British poet. They Flee from Me That Sometime Did Me Seek (l. 1-2). . . Complete Poems [Sir Thomas Wyatt]. R. A. Rebholz, ed. (1978) Penguin Books.)

Nothing on earth more would I have,
Save that I have, to have it still.

(Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503?-1542), British poet. The Lover Rejoiceth the Enjoying of His Love (l. 23-24). . . Oxford Book of Sixteenth Century Verse, The. E. K. Chambers, comp. (1932) Oxford University Press.)

What should I say,
Since faith is dead,
And truth away
From you is fled?
Should I be led
With doubleness?

(Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503?-1542), British poet. What should I say (l. 1-6). . . Complete Poems [Sir Thomas Wyatt]. R. A. Rebholz, ed. (1978) Penguin Books.)

since I see
Your double heart,
Farewell my part!

(Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503?-1542), British poet. What should I say (l. 12-14). . . Complete Poems [Sir Thomas Wyatt]. R. A. Rebholz, ed. (1978) Penguin Books.)

My lute awake! perform the last
Labour that thou and I shall waste,
And end that I have now begun;
For when this song is sung and past,
My lute be still, for I have done.

(Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503?-1542), British poet. The Lover Complaineth the Unkindness of His Love (l. 1-5). . . Complete Poems [Sir Thomas Wyatt]. R. A. Rebholz, ed. (1978) Penguin Books.)

Tangled was I in Love's snare.
Oppressed with pain, torment with care;
Of grief right sure, of joy quite bare,
Clean in despair by cruelty.

(Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503?-1542), British poet. The Lover Rejoiceth (l. 1-4). . . Complete Poems [Sir Thomas Wyatt]. R. A. Rebholz, ed. (1978) Penguin Books.)

My most desire my hand may reach,
My will is alway at my hand;
Me need not long for to beseech
Her that hath power me to command.

(Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503?-1542), British poet. The Lover Rejoiceth the Enjoying of His Love (l. 17-20). . . Oxford Book of Sixteenth Century Verse, The. E. K. Chambers, comp. (1932) Oxford University Press.)