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2.9: "Whoso List to Hunt"

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  • (1557)

    Whoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind,

    But as for me, hélas, I may no more.

    The vain travail hath wearied me so sore,

    I am of them that farthest cometh behind.

    Yet may I by no means my wearied mind

    Draw from the deer, but as she fleeth afore

    Fainting I follow. I leave off therefore,

    Sithens in a net I seek to hold the wind.

    Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt,

    As well as I may spend his time in vain.

    And graven with diamonds in letters plain

    There is written, her fair neck round about:

    Noli me tangere, for Caesar’s I am,

    And wild for to hold, though I seem tame.

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