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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 make hath told her tale;
Summer is come, for every spray now springs.

— Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey

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More quotes by Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey

Death is a port whereby we pass to joy,
Life is a lake that drowneth all in payn.

England's Parnassus (1600)

The dint of swords from kisses seemèd strange.

And thus I see among these pleasant things
Each care decays, and yet my sorrow springs!

Wyatt resteth here, that quick could never rest:
Whose heavenly gifts increased by disdain;
And virtue sank the deeper in his breast:
Such profit he by envy could obtain.

But by and by, the cause of my disease
Gives me a pang, that inwardly doth sting,
When that I think what grief it is again
To live and lack the thing should rid my pain.

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Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.