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 once remember,
That sometime they put themselves in danger
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,
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 awaking:
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 unkindely so am served:
**How like you this, what hath she now deserved? **
(Wyatt)
