In Absentia

The fansy which that I haue serued long,
That hath alway bene enmy to myne ease,
Seemed 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 pain full 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 ani now, as restlesse to remayn,
Against my will, full pleased with my payn.