Yet, would my Lady look at even and morrow1 SIR THOMAS WYATT. (1503-1542.) THE family of Wyatt was of ancient Yorkshire origin. Sir Henry Wyatt, father of the poet, had been an adherent of the Lancastrian party during the Wars of the Roses, and was appointed by Henry VII. to be one of his Privy Councillors. He afterwards held various offices in the household of Henry VIII. His eldest son, Thomas, was born at Allington Castle, near Maidstone in Kent, in 1503. He graduated at Cambridge when he was seventeen, and married in the same year Elizabeth, daughter of Thomas, Lord Cobham. Their son, known in later years as "Sir Thomas Wyatt the younger," who was beheaded for taking part in the Lady Jane Grey conspiracy, was born in 1521, when his father was only eighteen years of age. Sir Thomas Wyatt the poet was one of the most accomplished courtiers of Henry VIII., and the foremost in a group of young poets who acknowledged no adherence to the satirical school of Skelton, but sought their models in the more graceful and cultured poetry of the Italians. Wyatt's Sonnets, with those of the Earl of Surrey, may be said to have introduced a new and favourite form into English verse; and these two men, close friends and fellow-workers, were for a considerable period the idols of the early literary Elizabethans. Wyatt was twice employed abroad, towards the end of his life, in diplomatic service for the king. On the second occasion he fell into trouble, and was committed, upon his return in 1539, to the Tower for offences alleged to 2 Story of his life. 1 Morning. 3 Wish. have been committed by him during his ambassadorship. He was tried and acquitted with honour in 1540; after which he retired from court-life, and went to live upon his Kentish estates. There he wrote his latest works, consisting of some Satires and a Translation of the Penitential Psalms of David. In 1542, at the age of thirty-nine, he died of fever at Sherborne, whilst travelling to Falmouth by command of the king, to meet and conduct to London an embassy from the Emperor Charles V. One of the most interesting traditions concerning Wyatt's private history is that of his love for Anna Boleyn. Some of his poems seem to lend authority to this tradition; and it is said that during her imprisonment in the Tower, before her execution in 1535, the Queen occupied her time in reading Wyatt's poetry. A prayer-book which she presented in her last moments to the poet's sister was kept for a long time as a relic in the Wyatt family. Hitherto the chief lyrists had been Scotchmen. But it must not on this account be supposed that the English lyric, as exemplified in the writings of Wyatt and Surrey, had its origin in Scotland, nor that Henryson and Dunbar were the first Scottish lyrists. In the poetry of our oldest writers, both English and Scotch, we meet continually with the names of still older songs, and snatches of popular minstrelsy. In these names and refrains may be discerned the last surviving fragments of an unwritten literature of lyric song, which at one time existed in these islands. In the history of the lyric, Sir Thomas Wyatt's name, although English, follows in strict order of succession those of the Scottish poets of the fifteenth century. In his songs there is a dignified thoughtfulness which reminds us of Dunbar's most graceful strains; but there is an emotional richness, a power of tears, that distinguishes Wyatt not only from the Scottish lyrists who preceded him, but also from the English lyrists of his own time. Wyatt was an enthusiastic student of Italian poetry, and especially of the Sonnets of Petrarch, many of which he translated. Like his foreign models, he devoted his genius almost wholly to describing the joys, woes, and whimsies of the lover; and his followers imitated him in this respect. The aspects of nature, the varied passions, sorrows, and adventures of men, were all made subservient to the one theme of sentimental love and courtship. A habit of severe literary culture was introduced among our poets by this close study of foreign verse; and many of the most love-sick productions of our first sonneteers appear, on examination, to have been written, not in a love-sick mood at all, but by way of exercises inflicted by the poet on himself in perfectly cold blood. Wyatt's best sonnets are, however, much more than mere literary exercises; while, at the same time, his unequalled grace and ease, his apparent recklessness in breaking through old rules of sing-song metre, the human glow that seemed to warm into passion even the most rigid sonnet form when he took it in hand, were doubtless the result of a more perfect art than was attained by any other poet in the same school of sonneteers. As a thinker, statesman, and moralist, Wyatt won for himself a high reputation among his contemporaries. His prose Letter, addressed from the Tower of London in 1541 to the Lords of the Privy Council, and also his Defence of himself delivered during his trial before the same body of judges, are extant, and exhibit consummate literary skill, clear-headedness, and practical ability. A SONNET OF PETRARCH.1 The long love that in my thought I harbour, 1 Translated from the 109th sonnet of Petrarch, of which the following is the original : Amor che nel pensier mio vive e regna Ivi si loca ed ivi pon sua insegna. Quella ch' amare e sofferir ne 'nsegna, Che poss' io far temendo il mio signore, Che bel fin fa chi ben amando more. Into my face presseth with bold pretence, But in the field with him to live and die? STORM-DRIVEN. My galley, charged with forgetfulness, As though that death were light in such a case: Have done the wearied cords great hinderance: Drowned is Reason, that should be my comfort; "NOLI ME TANGERE." Who list to hunt? I know where is an hind! "Noli me tangere; for Cæsar's I am, "1 And wildè for to hold, though I seem tame." 1 This sonnet appears to have been composed when Henry VIII. was wooing Anne Boleyn, whom, it is believed, Wyatt loved. THE LOST HEART. Help me to seek! For I lost it there; Handle it soft and treat it tenderly, Or else it will 'plain,1 and then appair.2 Since that I do ask it thus honestly; Alas, and is there no remedy? MY LUTE, AWAKE! My Lute, awake! Perform the last As to be heard where ear is none; My song may pierce her heart as soon. The rocks do not so cruelly As she my suit and affection; So that I am past remedy; Whereby my Lute and I have done ! Proud of the spoil that thou hast got Although my Lute and I have done! 1 Complain. 2 Decay. 3 Certainly. 4 Knew. 5 Engrave. |