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Tudor poets

Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503-1542)

Whoso List to Hunt…* [a sonnet adapted from Petrarch]

* Who wishes to hunt

HOSO

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 furthest come behind.

5 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
10 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 Cæsar's I am,
And wild for to hold, though I seem tame.'

[AJ Notes: Thought to be about

Anne Boleyn

, with whom Wyatt had a

relationship before the King became interested in her. Noli me tangere,
"touch me not." ]

Farewell, Love [a sonnet]

AREWELL, Love, and all thy laws forever ;
Thy* baited hooks shall tangle me no more. * your
Senec, and Plato, call me from thy lore,

erfect wealth, my wit for to endeavour ;

5 In blind error when I did persever,
Thy sharp repulse, that pricketh aye so sore,
Taught me in trifles that I set no store ;
But scaped forth thence, since, liberty is lever

To p

1

Therefore, farewell ! go trouble younger hearts,
10 And in me claim no more authority :
With idle youth go use thy property,

2

And thereon spend thy many brittle darts :
For, hitherto though I have lost my time,
Me list no longer* rotten boughs to climb. * I wish no longer

1

Preferable, of more estimation.

2

Go exercise those qualities which form thy property.

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They Flee from Me… [an ode]

HEY flee from me, that sometime did me seek,
With naked foot stalking* within my chamber : *walking softly
Once have I seen them gentle, tame, and meek,
That now are wild, and do not once remember,

5 That sometime they have put themselves in danger
To take bread at my hand ; and now they range
Busily seeking in continual change.

Thanked be Fortune, it hath been otherwise
Twenty times better ; but once especial,
10 In thin array, after a pleasant guise,
When her loose gown did from her shoulders fall,
And she me caught in her arms long and small*, * slender
And therewithal sweetly did me kiss,
And softly said, ' Dear heart, how like you this ?'

15 It was no dream; for I lay broad awaking :
But all is turn'd now through my gentleness,
Into a bitter fashion of forsaking ;
And I have leave to go of her goodness ;
And she also to use new fangleness.* * fickleness, fancy
But since that I unkindly so am served :
How like you this, what hath she now deserved ?

Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey (1517-1547)

Love that liveth and reigneth in my thought

OVE, that liveth and reigneth in my thought,
That 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.
5 She, that taught me to love, and suffer pain ;
My doubtful hope, and eke* my hot desire

* also

With shamefaced* cloak to shadow and restrain,

* modest

Her smiling grace converteth straight to ire.
And coward Love then to the heart apace
10 Taketh his flight ; whereas he lurks, and plains*

* complains

His purpose lost, and dare not shew his face.
For my Lord's guilt thus faultless bide I pains.
Yet from my Lord shall not my foot remove :
Sweet is his death, that takes his end by love.

L

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Alas! So All Things Now Do Hold Their Peace

LAS ! so all things now do hold their peace !
Heaven and earth disturbèd in no thing ;

The beasts, the air, the birds their song do cease,
The nightès car* the stars about doth bring.

* the chariot of the night (the Great Bear)

5 Calm is the sea; the waves work less and less :
So am not I, whom love, alas ! doth* wring,

* does

Bringing before my face the great increase
Of my desires, whereat I weep and sing,
In joy and woe, as in a doubtful case.
10 For my sweet thoughts sometime do pleasure bring ;
But by and by, the cause of my disease
Gives me a pang, that inwardly doth sting,
When that I think what grief it is again,
To live and lack the thing should rid my pain.

A

Elizabethan poets

Sir Philip Sidney (1554-1586)

From

Astrophel and Stella

[Star-lover and Star]

Sonnet 1

OVING in truth, and fain* in verse my love to show,

*wanting

That she, dear she, might take some pleasure of my pain,

Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know,
Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain,—
5 I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe ;
Studying inventions fine, her wits to entertain,
Oft turning others' leaves to see if thence would flow
Some fresh and fruitful showers upon my sun-burned brain.
But words came halting forth, wanting invention's stay* ;

* prop

10 Invention, nature's child, fled step-dame Study's blows,
And others' feet still seemed but strangers in my way.
Thus, great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes,
Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite,
Fool, said my muse to me, look in thy heart and write.

L

Sonnet 49

on my horse, and Love on me doth* try

* does

O

A ho

I

ur horsemanships, while by strange work I prove

rseman to my horse, a horse to Love;

And now man’s wrongs in me, poor beast, descry*.

* discover

5 The reins wherewith my rider doth me tie,
Are humbled thoughts, which bit of reverence move,
Curb’d in with fear, but with gilt boss* above

* gold studs

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Of hope, which makes it seem fair to the eye.
The wand* is will; thou, fancy, saddle art*,

* whip * you, Fancy, are a saddle

10 Girt* fast by memory, and while I spur

* encircled (girdled)

My horse, he spurs with sharp desire my heart:
He sits me fast, however I do stir:
And now hath made me to his hand so right,
That in the manage myself takes delight.

Edmund Spenser (1552-1599)

From

Amoretti

(Little Loves)

Sonnet 1

APPY ye leaves* when as those lilly hands,

* pages of the book

which hold my life in their dead doing* might

* killing

shall handle you and hold in loves soft bands*,

* bonds

tives trembling at the victors sight.

5 And happy lines, on which with starry light,
those lamping eyes will deigne* sometimes to look

* think fit

and reade the sorrowes of my dying spright*,

* spirit

written with teares in hearts close* bleeding book.

* secret

And happy rymes bath'd in the sacred brooke,
10 of Helicon* whence she derived is,

* the mountain sacred to the Muses

when ye behold that Angels blessed looke,
my soules long lacked foode, my heavens bliss.
Leaves, lines, and rymes, seeke her to please alone,
whom if ye please, I care for other none.

like cap

Sonnet 54

F this worlds Theatre in which we stay,
My love lyke the Spectator idly sits

beholding me that all the pageants* play,

* roles

disguysing diversly my troubled wits.
5 Sometimes I joy when glad occasion fits,
and mask in myrth* lyke to a Comedy:

* mirth (happiness)

soone after when my ioy to sorrow flits,
I waile and make my woes a Tragedy.
Yet she beholding me with constant eye,
10 delights not in my merth no[r] rues my smart*:

* pities my heart

but when I laugh she mocks, and when I cry
she laughes, and hardens evermore her heart.
What then can move her? if nor merth*, nor mone*,

* mirth (happiness) * moan

she is no woman, but a senselesse stone.

O

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Sonnet 75

NE day I wrote her name upon the strand*, * beach
but came the waves and washed it away:

agayne I wrote it with a second hand,
but came the tyde, and made my paynes his pray.
5 “Vayne man,” sayd she, “that doest in vaine assay*,

* try

a mortall thing so to immortalize.
for I my selve shall lyke to this decay,
and eek* my name bee wyped out lykewize.”

* also

Not so, (quod* I) let baser things devize,

* said

10 to die in dust, but you shall live by fame:
my verse your vertues rare shall eternize,
and in the hevens wryte your glorious name.
Where whenas death shall all the world subdew,
our love shall live, and later life renew.

O