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Poem by Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey


Brittle Beauty


Brittle beauty, that nature made so frail,
Whereof the gift is small, and short the season,
Flowering today, tomorrow apt to fail,
Tickle treasure, abhorred of reason, [fragile]
Dangerous to deal with, vain, of none avail,
Costly in keeping, passed not worth two peason, [peas]
Slipper in sliding as is an eel's tail, [slippery]
Jewel of jeopardy that peril doth assail,
False and untrue, enticed oft to treason,
Enemy to youth: that most may I bewail.
Ah, bitter sweet: infecting as the poison,
Thou farest as fruit that with the frost is taken:
Today ready ripe, tomorrow all to-shaken. [broken] 



Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey


Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey's other poems:
  1. The Sun Hath Twice
  2. Of The Death of Sir T.W. the Elder
  3. Geue Place Ye Louers, Here Before
  4. Alas! So All Things Now Do Hold Their Peace
  5. Complaint of the Absence of Her Lover Being upon the Sea


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