Lo, as a careful housewife runs to catch
One of her feather’d creatures broke away,
Sets down her babe, and makes all swift dispatch
In pursuit of the thing she would have stay;
Whilst her neglected child holds her in chase,
Cries to catch her whose busy care is bent
To follow that which flies before her face,
Not prizing her poor infant’s discontent;
So runn’st thou after that which flies from thee,
Whilst I thy babe chase thee afar behind;
But if thou catch thy hope, turn back to me,
And play the mother’s part, kiss me, be kind;
So will I pray that thou mayst have thy ‘Will,’
If thou turn back and my loud crying still.
In plain English
A housewife drops her baby and rushes after an escaped chicken. While she chases the bird, her child crawls after her, crying and reaching out—but she's too focused on recapturing what's slipping away to notice.
You're doing the same thing. You're chasing after someone who keeps running from you, while I'm left behind chasing *you*, desperate and ignored. If you finally catch what you're after, come back to me—be gentle, be kind, comfort me like a mother would her child.
I'll even pray you get what you want—get your 'Will'—but only if you turn around and stop my tears. The deal is simple: give me attention in return, and I'll want your success.
