Today’s poem is one of my all-time favorites because, while he’s sad, the poet recognizes that he is better off without his “love” who only hurt him. He finds a way to deal with his grief by reasoning with himself that she was only a mean, selfish, conniving bitch anyway.
In looking for a “photo” (ha!) of Sir Thomas Wyatt, I learned some fascinating things about his life, including the fact that he was imprisoned for a time, accused of having an affair with Anne Boleyn. Gulp! Anyway, I’ll write another post about him sometime soon. For now, here’s the great poem and the photo:
Farewell Love and All Thy Laws Forever
Farewell love and all thy laws forever;
Thy baited hooks shall tangle me no more.
Senec and Plato call me from thy lore
To perfect wealth, my wit for to endeavour.
In blind error when I did persever,
Thy sharp repulse, that pricketh aye so sore,
Hath taught me to set in trifles no store
And scape forth, since liberty is lever.
Therefore farewell; go trouble younger hearts
And in me claim no more authority.
With idle youth go use thy property
And thereon spend thy many brittle darts,
For hitherto though I have lost all my time,
Me lusteth no lenger rotten boughs to climb.