"Whoso List to Hunt" by Sir Thomas Wyatt
Whoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind,
But as for me, alas, 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,
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 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."
*Noli me tangere: "Don't touch me", Latin