Classic and Contemporary Poetry
BONUM EST MIHI QUOD HUMILIASTI ME, by HENRY HOWARD Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: The storms are past, these clouds are overblown Last Line: For britain's sake, alas, and now is dead. Alternate Author Name(s): Surrey, Earl Of | ||||||||
The storms are past, these clouds are overblown, And humble cheer great rigor hath repressed; For the default is set a pain foreknown, And patience graft in a determed breast. And in the heart where heaps of griefs were grown The sweet revenge hath planted mirth and rest; No company so pleasant as mine own. . . . Thralldom at large hath made this prison free; Danger well past rememb'red works delight. Of ling'ring doubts such hope is sprung, pardie, That naught I find displeasant in my sight But when my glass presented unto me The cureless wound that bleedeth day and night. To think, alas, such hap should granted be Unto a wretch that hath no heart to fight, To spill that blood that hath so oft been shed For Britain's sake, alas, and now is dead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COMPLAINT OF THE ABSENCE OF HER LOVER BEING UPON THE SEA by HENRY HOWARD DESCRIPTION OF SPRING by HENRY HOWARD EPITAPH ON THOMAS CLERE, SURREY'S FAITHFUL FRIEND AND FOLLOWER by HENRY HOWARD ON THE DEATH OF SIR THOMAS WYATT by HENRY HOWARD PRISONED IN WINDSOR, HE RECOUNTETH HIS PLEASURE THERE PASSED by HENRY HOWARD THE FRAILTY AND HURTFULNESS OF BEAUTY by HENRY HOWARD THE LOVER COMFORTETH HIMSELF WITH THE WORTHINESS OF HIS LOVE by HENRY HOWARD UNDER HOUSE ARREST IN WINDSOR by HENRY HOWARD |
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