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

“Whoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind,But as for me, hélas, I may no more.The vain travail hath wearied me so sore,I am of them that farthest cometh behind.Yet may I by no means my wearied mindDraw from the deer, but as she fleeth aforeFainting I follow. I leave off therefore,Sithens in a net I seek to hold the wind.Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt,As well as I may spend his time in vain.And graven with diamonds in letters plainThere is written, her fair neck round about:Noli me tangere, for Caesar's I am,And wild for to hold, though I seem tame.”

“Noli me tangere, for Caesar's I am /And wild for to hold, though I seem tame.”

“I leave off therefore,Since in a net I seek to hold the wind.”

“I find no peace, and all my war is done,I fear and hope; I burn and freeze like ice;I fly above the wind yet can I not arise;And naught I have and all the world I seize on.That looseth nor locketh holdeth me in prison,And holdeth me not, yet can I scape nowise;Nor letteth me live nor die at my devise,And yet of death it giveth none occasion.Without eyen I see, and without tongue I plain;I desire to perish, and yet I ask health;I love another, and thus I hate myself;I feed me in sorrow, and laugh in all my pain.Likewise displeaseth me both death and lifeAnd my delight is causer of this strife.”

“Forsake me not till I deserveNor hate me not till I offend;Destroy me not till that I swerve;But since ye know that I intend,Forsake me not.”

“Stand whoso list upon the slipper topOf court's estates, and let me here rejoiceAnd use me quiet without let or stop,Unknown in court, that hath such brackish joys.In hidden place so let my days forth passThat when my years be done withouten noise,I may die aged after the common trace.For him death grippeth right hard by the cropThat is much known of other, and of himself, alas,Doth die unknown, dazed, with dreadful face.”