| Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503–42). The Poetical Works. 1880. | | | | Odes | | The Lover sheweth how he is forsaken of such as he sometime enjoyed |
| | | 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 | 5 |
| To take bread at my hand; and now they range | |
| Busily seeking in continual change. | |
| Thanked be Fortune, it hath been otherwise | |
| Twenty times better; but once especial, | |
| In thin array, after a pleasant guise, | 10 |
| When her loose gown did from her shoulders fall, | |
| And she me caught in her arms long and small, | |
| And therewithal so sweetly did me kiss, | |
| And softly said, ‘Dear heart, how like you this?’ | |
| It was no dream; for I lay broad awaking: | 15 |
| But all is turn’d now, through my gentleness, | |
| Into a bitter fashion of forsaking; | |
| And I have leave to go of her goodness; | |
| And she also to use new fangleness. | |
| But since that I unkindly so am served: | 20 |
| How like you this, what hath she now deserved? | | | | |
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