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Thomas Wyatt (Томас Уайетт)


The Furious Gun


The furious gun in his raging ire,
When that the bowl is rammed in too sore
And that the flame cannot part from the fire,
Cracketh in sunder, and in the air doth roar
The shivered pieces; right so doth my desire,
Whose flame increaseth from more to more,
Which to let out I dare not look or speak;
So now hard force my heart doth all to break. 



Thomas Wyatt's other poems:
  1. My Lute Awake
  2. Stand Whoso List
  3. My Galley, Charged With Forgetfulness
  4. A Description of Such a One As He Would Love
  5. Since so Ye Please


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