SIR THOMAS WYAT. 1530. Attached to the Earl of Surrey by a congeniality of disposition and taste, WYAT appears to have assiduously cultivated his poetical talents, which, like those of his friend, were successfully engaged in celebrating the charms of the Fair. Perhaps he more than divides with Surrey the praise of having first imparted to our language a degree of modulation and refinement of which it was hardly conceived susceptible. Like Surrey, he travelled abroad, and amply availed himself of the treasures of the Italian Muse; like him, he shone with no common lustre in the court of Henry VIII. by whom he was deservedly esteemed for his diplomatic abilities, and highly caressed for his wit. His personal appearance is described to have been at once awful and engaging; his eyes were penetrating and intelligent. He was born at Allington Castle, in Kent, the seat of his ancestors, in 1503. He was buried in the Abbey church of Sherbourn, where he died in 1541. YOUR looks so often cast, Though hide it fain ye would, And where good-will ye bear. Fain would ye find a cloke Your burning fire to hide, Ye cannot Love so guide, SONNET. My heart I gave thee not to do it pain, JOHN HARRINGTON. 1564. Father of Sir John Harrington, this gentleman is distinguished for the following poem, written, as he informs us, "on ISABELLA MARKHAM, when he first thought her fair; as she stood at the Princess's window, in goodly attire, and talked to divers in the court-yard." He was the friend and admirer of Queen Elizabeth, who rewarded his attachment to her cause, by the reversion of a grant of lands at Thelston, near Bath. He died in 1582."If," says Mr. Ellis, "the poem here selected be rightly attributed to him, he cannot be denied the singular merit of having united an elegance of taste with an artifice of style which far exceeded his contemporaries." WHENCE Comes my Love?-oh, heart disclose! The blushing cheek speaks modest mind, Why: the heart of stone. so kind bespeak Leweet blushing cheek, ve my pain? Lifts again. to cause our moan, at's like your own. SONNET. IF amorous faith, or if an heart unfeign'd; |