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SIR THOMAS WYATT,

Of Allington Castle, Kent, was born in 1503; educated at both universities; a great traveller; possessed all the modern languages; and was often employed by Henry VIII. in foreign missions. Though generally, and justly, in the confidence of his master, he was imprisoned by him on suspicion of a connection with Anne Boleyn, but justified himself, and was restored to favour. Being sent to conduct the ambassador of Charles V. from Falmouth, he caught a fever on the road by riding too hard in a hot day, and died at Sherborne, where he was buried in the conventual church, in 1541.

His genius was of the moral and didactic cast; and he may be considered (says Warton) as the first polished satirist : but his imagination was inferior to that of his friend Surrey; and his love-verses are often filled with conceit and anti. thesis.

MADAM, withouten many words,
Once, I am sure, you will, or no:
And if you will, then leave your bourds,'
And use your wit, and shew it so.

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For, with a beck you shall me call;
And if, of one that burns alway,
Ye have pity' or ruth at all,
Answer him fair, with yea or nay!

If it be yea, I shall be fain;

If it be nay-friends, as before:
You shall another man obtain ;

And I, mine own; and yours no more.

[Abridged from 40 lines.]

YOUR looks so often cast,

Your eyes so friendly roll'd,

Your sight fixed so fast,

Always one to behold;
Tho' hide it fain ye would,

It plainly doth declare,
Who hath your heart in hold,

And where good-will ye bear.

Fain would ye find a cloak
Your burning fire to hide,

Yet both the flame and smoke

Breaks out on every side.

Ye cannot love so guide

That it no issue win;
Abroad needs must it glide

That burns so hot within.

[Abridged from 36 lines.]

SINCE love will needs that I shall love,
Of very force I must agree:
And since no chance may it remove,
In wealth and in adversity,

I shall always myself apply,
To serve and suffer patiently.

Though for good-will I find but hate,
And cruelty my life to waste;
And though that still a wretched state,
Should pine my days unto the last,

Yet I profess it willingly,

To serve and suffer patiently.

There is no grief, no smart, no woe,

That yet I feel, or after shall, That from this mind may make me go;

And, whatsoever me befal,

I do profess it willingly,

To serve and suffer patiently.

LORD SURREY.

Henry Howard, earl of Surrey, son and grandson to two dukes of Norfolk, lords treasurers, was born in 1520. While a boy, he resided at Windsor, in the quality of companion to Henry Fitzroy, duke of Richmond, a natural son of Henry VIII. and, like Surrey, a youth of the highest expectations. They became warm friends; studied together at Wolsey's college, in Oxford; travelled into France; and at Calais received Henry, on his visit to Francis I. Richmond was, soon after, married to the lady Mary Howard, Surrey's sister; but died in 1536, at the early age of 17. Surrey was at once the hero of Romance, and the practical soldier: his superiority in the accomplishments of chivalry was proved at a tournament held by him at Florence, in honour of his Geraldine, and at another exhibited at Windsor, in the king's presence, in 1540. He served with great distinction in his father's army, which marched against the Scots in 1542, and contributed, by his skill and bravery, to the memorable victory of Flodden Field. In 1544, he commanded, as field-marshal, the English army in the expedition against Boulogne. His talents, his popularity, his high spirit, a suspicion of his intending to marry the princess Mary, with the view of obtaining the crown, and, above all, a treasured hate in the king's breast against the relations of Catharine Howard, procured his condemnation for a most frivolous offence, and he was beheaded in 1547.

The fair Geraldine, the object of his romantic passion, became the third wife, of Edward Clinton, earl of Lincoln; and

Surrey married Frances, daughter of the earl of Oxford, by whom he had several children.

Surrey's smaller poems were printed by Tottel, in 1557; and other editions appeared in 1565, 1567, 1569, 1574, 1585, 1587; and lastly in 1717. His translation of Virgil's second and fourth books, into English blank verse, a translation said to be equally elegant and faithful, was published in 1557. This curious work has been reprinted from a copy preserved in Dulwich college library, and it is hoped, will soon be given to the public.

For a more particular account of this accomplished man, see Walpole's Royal and Noble Authors, or Warton's History of Poetry.

Description and praise of his Love, Geraldine. FROM Tuscane 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 earl; her dame of princes' blood: From tender years, in Britain she doth rest,

With king's child, where she tasteth costly food. Honsdon did first present her to mine ey❜n;

Bright is her hue, and Geraldine she hight; Hampton me taught to wish her first for mine,

And Windsor, alas, doth chase me from her sight. Her beauty of kind; her virtues from above; Happy is he that can obtain her love.

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