Henry VIII, King of England
Henry VIII was King of England from 21 April 1509 until his death. He was Lord, and later King, of Ireland, as well as continuing the nominal claim by the English monarchs to the Kingdom of France. Henry was the second monarch of the House of Tudor, succeeding his father, Henry VII.
Besides his six marriages, Henry VIII is known for his role in the separation of the Church of England from the Roman Catholic Church. Henry's struggles with Rome led to the separation of the Church of England from papal authority, the Dissolution of the Monasteries, and establishing himself as the Supreme Head of the Church of England. Yet he remained a believer in core Catholic theological teachings,... more »
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Henry VIII, King of England Poems
Green Groweth the Holly
1 Green groweth the holly, 2 So doth the ivy. 3 Though winter blasts blow never so high,
Passtime with good company
1 Pastime with good company 2 I love and shall unto I die. 3 Grudge whoso will, but none deny, 4 So God be pleased, this live will I.
Though that Men do Call it Dotage
1 Though that men do call it dotage, 2 Who loveth not wanteth courage; 3 And whosoever may love get,
Lusty Youth should us ensue
1 Lusty Youth should us ensue. 2 His merry heart shall sure all rue. 3 For whatsoever they do him tell, 4 It is not for him, we know it well.
Though some Saith that Youth Ruleth me
1 Though some saith that youth ruleth me, 2 I trust in age to tarry. 3 God and my right and my duty, 4 From them I shall never vary,
The Tyme Of Youthe
The tyme of youthe is to be spent; But vice in it shuld be forfent. Pastymes ther be I nought treulye Whych one may use, and vice denye
Whoso That Wyll All Feattes Optayne
Whoso that wyll all feattes optayne, In love he must be withowt dysdayne, For love enforyth all nobyle kynd And dysdayne dyscorages all gentyl mynd
Withowt dyscord And bothe acorde Now let us be; Bothe hartes alone
O My Hart!
O my hart and O my hart! My hart it is so sore, Sens I must nedys from my love depart And know no cunse wherefore.
Wherto Shuld I Expresse
Wherto shuld I expresse My inward hevynes? No myrth can make me fayn Tyl that we mete agayne.
Alac, Alac, What Shall I Do
Alac, alac, what shall I do, For care is cast into my hart, And trew love lokked therto?
Alas, madam, who I love so much, Allow me to be your humble servant: Your humble servant I will always remain, And as long as I live, no other will I love.
Departure Is My Chef Payne
Departure is my chef payne; I trust ryght wel of retorn agane.
Alas, What Shall I Do For Love?
Alas, what shall I do for love? For love, alasse, what shall I do? Syth now so kynd I do you fynde
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Green Groweth the Holly
1 Green groweth the holly,
2 So doth the ivy.
3 Though winter blasts blow never so high,
4 Green groweth the holly.
5 As the holly groweth green
6 And never changeth hue,
7 So I am, ever hath been,
8 Unto my lady true.
9 As the holly groweth green
10 With ivy all alone
11 When flowers cannot be seen
12 And greenwood leaves be gone,
13 Now unto my lady
14 Promise to her I make,
15 From all other only
16 To her I me betake.
17 Adieu, mine own lady,
18 Adieu, my ...