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Sir Thomas Wyatt

They Flee From Me

26 October 2009
Vol. 9, No. 3
poetry, classic

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 remember

That sometime they put themself in danger

To take bread at my hand; and now they range,

Busily seeking with a continual change.

Lucks, My Fair Falcon

21 October 2009
Vol. 9, No. 3
poetry, classic

Lucks, my fair falcon, and your fellows all,

   How well pleasant it were your liberty!

Ye not forsake me that fair might ye befall.

But they that sometime liked my company:

Like lice away from dead bodies they crawl.

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