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.