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.
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 from her shoulders did fall
And she me caught in her arms long and small
Therewithal sweetly did me kiss,
And softly said, 'Dear heart, how like you this?'
It was no dream. I lay broad walking.
But all is turned through 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 kindly am served,
I would fain know what she hath deserved.
SIR THOMAS WYATT (1503-42)
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