Whoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind, <br />But as for me, helas! I may no more. <br />The vain travail hath wearied me so sore, <br />I am of them that furthest come behind. <br />Yet may I by no means, my wearied mind <br />Draw from the deer; but as she fleeth afore <br />Fainting I follow. I leave off therefore, <br />Since in a net I seek to hold the wind. <br />Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt, <br />As well as I, may spend his time in vain; <br />And graven in diamonds in letters plain <br />There is written, her fair neck round about, <br />'Noli me tangere, for Caesar's I am, <br />And wild to hold, though I seem tame.'<br /><br />Sir Thomas Wyatt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/whoso-list-to-hunt/
