Valentine: A Reply to Thomas Wyatt

         Da capo aria with ritornello, a capella

Wish and want,
They make a sweet music.

My lute be still, you said.
I have done, you said.
But that was just another
of your come-hithers,
your rosebud-gatherings.

Wish and want
turn sour on the tongue.

All that tease and wheedle,
the eyeplay, touch, laughter,
don’t think I didn’t want
your body, as you wanted mine.
But we know who pays for that tune.

Wish and want
are a descending scale.

You didn’t shut up
shop and put away
the noisemakers, or your hungers.
The years came and took them
in the end, your ladies and lovers.

Wish and want
turn bitter in the mouth.

Your lusty young man’s music
grew reedy and dropped
an octave. You taught
persuasion, you collected
curiosities and causes.

Wish and want
are music in a minor key.