I’m returning to Sir Thomas Wyatt, a poet who speaks across the century to me. He was born in 1503 and five hundred and twenty four years ago and died in 1542. He was a man of multiple many gifts and talents, and was not only an influential politician and ambassador, but the most wonderful poet, who is given credit for introducing the sonnet form of poetry into the language. He may also have been a lover of Anne Boleyne – whether he was or not, he was imprisoned at the time of her execution and may have witnessed it from his cell. The following poem may have a reference to her in the last few lines.
Whoso list to hunt
Whoso 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.”
Lois Elsden 