Thomas Wyatt (1503-42)

[artymiss.livejournal.com]

They flee from me, that sometime did me seek
With naked foot stalking in my chamber.
I have seen them gentle, tame and meek
That now are wild, and do not remember
That sometime they put themself in danger
To take bread at my hand; and now they range,
Busily seeking with a continual change.

Thanked be Fortune it hath been otherwise
Twenty times better, but once in special,
In thin array after a pleasant guise
Where her loose gown from her shoulders did fall,
And she caught me in her arms long and small,
Therewithall sweetly did me kiss,
And softly said, 'Dear heart, how like you this?'

It was no dream; I lay broad waking.
But all is turned through my gentleness
Into a strange fashion of foresaking.
And I have leave to go of her goodness,
And she to use newfangleness.
But since that I so kindely am served,
I fain would know what she hath deserved.