Henry Howard

Wyatt resteth here, that quick could never rest;
Whose heavenly gifts increased by disdain,
And virtue sank the deeper in his breast;
Such profit he by envy could obtain.

Set me whereas the sun doth parch the green Or where his beams do not dissolve the ice,
In temperate heat where he is felt and seen;
In presence prest of people, mad or wise;
Set me in high or yet in low degree,

I never saw youe, madam, laye aparte Your cornet black in colde nor yet in heate Sythe first ye knew of my desire so greate which other fances chased cleane from my harte
Whiles to my self I did the thought reserve That so unware did wounde m...

Love that doth reign and live within my
And built his seat within my captive breast,
Clad in the arms wherein with me he fought,
Oft in my face he doth his banner rest

So cruel prison how could betide, alas, As proud Windsor
Where I in lust and joy With a king's son my childish years did pass In greater feast than Priam's sons of Troy; Where each sweet place returns a taste full sour: The large green courts...

Phylida was a faire mayde,
As fresh as any flowre;
Whom Harpalus the herdman
To be his paramour

Of thy life,
Thomas, this compass well mark:
Not aye with full sails the high seas to beat,
Ne by coward dread, in shunning storms dark,

From Tuscan came my lady's worthy race; Fair Florence was sometime her ancient seat
The western isle whose pleasant shore doth face Wild Camber's cliffs, did give her lively heat
Foster'd she was with milk of Irish breast; Her sire an ea...

In Cypres springes, wheras dame Venus dwelt, A well so hote that who so tastes the same, Were he of stone, as thawed yse shuld melt, And kindled fynde his brest with secret flame; Whose moist poison dissolved hath my hate
This creping fier my...

Give place, ye lovers, here before That spent your boasts and brags in vain; My lady's beauty passeth more The best of yours,
I dare well sayn, Than doth the sun the candle-light, Or brightest day the darkest night
And thereto hath a tro...

Geue place ye louers, here before That spent your bostes and bragges in vaine: My Ladies beawtie passeth more The best of yours,
I dare well sayen, Than doth the sonne, the candle light: Or brightest day, the darkest night
And thereto ha...

Good ladies, you that have your pleasure in exile, Step in your foot, come take a place, and mourn with me a while, And such as by their lords do set but little price, Let them sit still: it skills them not what chance come on the dice
But ye...