LOVE'S INCONSISTENCY I fynde no peace and all my warre is done, I feare and hope, I bourne and freese lyke yse; I flye above the wynde, yet cannot ryse; And nought I have, yet all the worlde I season, That looseth, nor lacketh, holdes me in pryson, And holdes me not, yet can I escape no wyse. Nor lets me leeve, nor die at my devyce, And yet of d**h it giveth none occasion. Without eye I see, and without tongue I playne; I desyre to perishe, yet aske I health; I love another, and yet I hate my self; I feede in sorrow and laughe in all my payne, Lykewyse pleaseth me both d**h and lyf, And my delight is cawser of my greif. Wyatt. Warfare I cannot wage, yet know not peace; I fear, I hope, I burn, I freeze again; Mount to the skies, then bow to earth my face; Grasp the whole world, yet nothing can obtain. His prisoner Love nor frees, nor will detain; In toils he holds me not, nor will release; He slays me not, nor yet will he unchain; Nor joy allows, nor lets my sorrow cease. Sightless I see my fair; though mute, I mourn; I scorn existence, and yet court its stay; Detest myself, and for another burn; By grief I'm nurtured; and, though tearful, gay; d**h I despise, and life alike I hate: Such, lady, dost thou make my wayward state! Nott.