Thomas Wyatt - "Like to these immeasurable mountains" lyrics

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Thomas Wyatt - "Like to these immeasurable mountains" lyrics

Like to these immeasurable mountains Is my painful life, the burden of ire: For of great height be they and high is my desire, And I of tears and they be full of fountains. Under craggy rocks they have full barren plains; Hard thoughts in me my woeful mind doth tire. Small fruit and many leaves their tops do attire; Small effect with great trust in me remains. The boist'rous winds oft their high boughs do blast; Hot sighs from me continually be shed. Cattle in them and in me love is fed. Immovable am I and they are full steadfast. Of the restless birds they have the tune and note, And I always plaints that pa** thorough my throat.