| Sir Thomas Wyatt (150342). The Poetical Works. 1880. | | | | Songs and Epigrams | | Wyatt being in Prison, to Bryan |
| | | SIGHS are my food, my drink are my tears; | |
| Clinking of fetters would such music crave; | |
| Stink, and close air away my life it wears; | |
| Poor innocence is all the hope I have: | |
| Rain, wind, or weather judge I by my ears: | 5 |
| Malice assaults, that righteousness should have. | |
| Sure am I, Bryan, this wound shall heal again, | |
| But yet, alas, the scar shall still remain. | | | | |
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