Whoso List to Hunt by Thomas Wyatt

For whatever reason, I am posting poems that I remember from high school. Funny what sticks with you.

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 mind
Draw from the deer, but as she fleeth afore
Fainting 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 plain
There is written, her fair neck round about:
Noli me tangere, for Caesar’s I am,
And wild for to hold, though I seem tame.

Three pictures to go with this picture.

First of all, the obvious.

Then the second image, Anne Boleyn, the hind of Caesar.

Anne Boleyn
Via Wikipedia. Unknown artist, on display at Hever Castle, in Kent.

Lastly, the line Noli Me Tangere reminds me of the numerous paintings of Christ appearing to Mary Magdalene after his resurrection. Here’s Fra Angelico’s example.
Mry-Magdalene-and-the-Risen-Jesus

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