| Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503–42). The Poetical Works. 1880. | | | | Odes | | The abused Lover, admonishes the unwary to beware of Love |
| | | LO! what it is to love! | |
| Learn ye that list to prove | |
| At me, I say; | |
| No ways that may | |
| The grounded grief remove, | 5 |
| My life alway | |
| That doth decay; | |
| Lo! what it is to love. | |
| Flee alway from the snare: | |
| Learn by me to beware | 10 |
| Of such a train | |
| Which doubles pain, | |
| And endless woe, and care | |
| That doth retain; | |
| Which to refrain | 15 |
| Flee alway from the snare. | |
| To love, and to be wise, | |
| To rage with good advice; | |
| Now thus, now than, | |
| Now off, now an, | 20 |
| Uncertain as the dice; | |
| There is no man | |
| At once that can | |
| To love and to be wise. | |
| Such are the divers throes, | 25 |
| Such that no man knows | |
| That hath not prov’d | |
| And once have lov’d; | |
| Such are the raging woes | |
| Sooner reprov’d | 30 |
| Than well remov’d, | |
| Such are the divers throes. | |
| Love is a fervent fire | |
| Kindled by hot desire; | |
| For a short pleasure | 35 |
| Long displeasure, | |
| Repentance is the hire; | |
| A poor treasure, | |
| Without measure; | |
| Love is a fervent fire. | 40 |
| Lo! what it is to love! | | | | |
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