Stultitia sua seipsum saginari
The Foxe, that longe for grapes did leape in vayne,
With wearie limmes, at lengthe did sad departe:
And to him selfe quoth hee, I doe disdayne
These grapes I see, bicause their taste is tarte:
So thou, that hunt'st for that thou longe hast mist,
Still makes thy boast, thou maist if that thou list.