I'm not usually one to go crazy about poems from antiquity, but this first stanza of "The Flee From Me" from Sir Thomas Wyatt the Elder (1503-1542) is pretty much perfect. Those first four lines, they punch like nothing else.
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.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
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