The Fansy, Which That I Haue Serued Long

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.