Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey

“ With silver drops the meads yet spread for ruth,
In active games of nimbleness and strength,
Where we did strain, trailèd by swarms of youth,
Our tender limbs that yet shot up in length.
The secret groves which oft we made resound
Of pleasant plaint and of our ladies' praise,
Recording soft what grace each one had found,
What hope of speed, what dread of long delays.
The wild forest, the clothèd holts with green,
With reins availed and swift breathèd horse,
With cry of hounds and merry blasts between,
Where we did chase the fearful hart a force. ”

“ In greater feast than Priam's sons of Troy?
Where each sweet place returns a taste full sour:
The large green courts, where we were wont to hove,
With eyes cast up unto the Maidens' Tower,
And easy sighs, such as folk draw in love. ”

“ Thus I alone, where all my freedom grew,
In prison pine with bondage and restraint.
And with remembrance of the greater grief
To banish the less, I find my chief relief. ”