SIR THOMAS WYATT

They flee from me, that sometime did me seek

With naked Foot stalking within my Chamber.

Once have I seen them gentle, tame, and meek,

That now are wild, and do not once remember

That sometime they have put themselves 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,

When her loose Gown did from her Shoulders fall

And she me caught in her Arms long and small,

And therewithal sweetly did me kiss,

And softly said, ‘Dear heart, how like you this?’

It was no Dream; for I lay broad waking:

But all is turned thorough my gentleness,

Into a strange Fashion of forsaking;

And I have leave to go of her goodness

And she also to use new fangleness.

But since that I so kindly am served

I would fain know what hath she deserved.