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Description and Praise of His Love Geraldine



From Tuscane came my Lady's worthy race;

Fair Florance was sometime her ancient seat.

Thw 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 Prince's boold.

From tender years, in Britain doth she rest,

With Kinges child; where she tasteth costly food.

Hunsdon did first present her to mine eyen:

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 attain her love!

COMMENTS

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phycoassassin
06:54 Oct 10 2017

Beautiful.

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My Womanhood



In ship, freight with remembrance

Of thoughts and pleasures past,

He sails that has in governance

My life, while it will last...

When other lovers in arms across

Rejoice their chief delight.

Drowned in tears, to mourn my loss,

I stand the bitter night,

In my window, where I may see,

Before the winds how the clouds flee.

Lo! what a mariner love hath made of me...

Thus is my wealth mingled with woe,

And of each thought a doubt doth grow;

"Now he comes! Will he come? Alas, no, no!"



-Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey

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phycoassassin
06:57 Oct 10 2017

These poems are awesome.

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My Maidenhood



The soote season, that bud and bloom forth brings,

With green hath clad the hill and eke the vale;

The nightingale with feathers new she sings;

The turtle to her mate hath told her tale.

Summer is come, for every spray now springs...

And thus I see among these pleasant things

Each care decays, and yet my sorrow springs.



-Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey

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phycoassassin
07:10 Oct 10 2017

Very good.

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My Youth



Love that doth reign and live within my thought

And built his seat within my captive breast,

Clad in arms wherein with me he fought,

Oft in my face he doth his banner rest...

And coward Love, then, to the heart apace

Taketh his flight, where he doth lurk and 'plain,

His purpose lost, and dare not show his face.

For my lord's guilt thus faultless bide I pain,

Yet from my lord shall not my foot remove, -

Sweet is the death that taketh end by love.



-Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey

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phycoassassin
07:11 Oct 10 2017

Talj about romantic on a royal level.

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phycoassassin
07:12 Oct 10 2017

It's really classy.

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... Foster'd she was with milk of Irish breast.

Her sire an Earl; her dame of Prince's blood.

From tender years, in Britain doth she rest...

Bright is her hue, and Geraldine she's named...

Her beauty of kind; her virtues from above;

Happy is he that can attain her love!



From the sonnet to Elizabeth Fitzgerald,



"The Fair Geraldine,"

by Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey

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phycoassassin
07:12 Oct 10 2017

It tells a story of gothic beauty.

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Who will you be

when faced with the end?

The end of a kingdom,

The end of good men,

Will you run?

Will you hide?

Or will you hunt down evil

with a venomous pride?



Rise to the ashes,

Rise to the winter sky,

Rise to the calling,

Make heard the battle cry.

Let it scream from the mountains

From the forest to the chapel,

Because death is a hungry mouth

And you are the apple.



So who will you be

when faced with the end?

When the vultures are circling

And the shadows descend.

Will you cower?

Or will you fight?

Is your heart made of glass?

Or a pure Snow White?

COMMENTS

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phycoassassin
07:14 Oct 10 2017

This reminds me of an epic song by the band Yes. the song is called The Gates of Delirium.

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