The fansy, which that I haue serued long, That hath alway bene enmy to myne ease, Semed of late to rue vpon my wrong, And bad me flye the cause of my misease. And I forthwith dyd prease out of the throng, That thought by flight my painfull hart to please Som other way: tyll I saw faith more strong: And to my self I sayd: alas, those dayes In vayn were spent, to runne the race so long. And with that thought,
I met my guyde, that playn Out of the way wherin I wandred wrong, Brought me amiddes the hylles, in base Bullayn: Where I am now, as restlesse to remayn, Against my will, full pleased with my payn.
