Poetry of Thomas Wyatt

They Flee from Me

 

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.

 

Thankéd be fortune it hath been otherwise

Twenty times better; but once in special,

In thin array after a pleasant guise,

When her loose gown from her shoulders did fall,

And she me caught 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, thorough my gentleness,

Into a strange fashion of forsaking;

And I have leave to go, of her goodness,

And she also, to use newfangleness.

But since that I so kindely am servéd

I would fain know what she hath deservéd.