lope, argent bezanty, horned, hoofed, gorged with a ducal coronet, and chained, or. The same arms are also upon his stall in St. George's chapel in Windsor castle.-See Sandford's Genealogical History, 1677, p. 466.

The king, his wife, and friend, mourned exceedingly for the premature death of this amiable youth; it was long before the latter forgot the loss of this beloved associate of his early years, who so nearly resembled himself in genius, manners, and acquisitions: and who, had he lived, would probably have prevented the earl from falling a sacrifice to the fury of the king his father.

Among the works of the earl of Surrey is mentioned a poem on the death of the duke of Richmond, which we may conceive to have been tender in the extreme; but which, with some other pieces of the same elegant author, is unhappily lost.

In 1543 Surrey was confined to Windsor castle, for eating flesh in lent; contrary to the king's proclamation, Feb. 9, 1542: during which restraint he wrote the following pathetic elegy, lamenting the happier days passed there with young Fitzroy.

Prisoner in Windsor, he recounteth his pleasure there passed.

"So cruell prison howe could betyde, alas!

As proude Windsor: Where I in Lust and Joy,
With a Kynges Sonne, my chyldysh yeres dyd passe,
In greater feast, than Priams Sonnes of Troye:
Where eche swete place returnes a tastfull sower:
The large grene Courtes where we were wont to rove,
Wyth Eyes cast up into the Maydens tower,
And easy sighes such as folke draw in Love:
The stately seates, the Ladies brighte of hewe;
The Daunces short, long tales of greate delight,

Wyth woordes and lookes, that Tygers could but rewe,
Where eche of us dyd pleade the others ryghte.
The palme play, where despoyled for the game,
With dazed Eyes oft we by gleames of Love
Have myst the Ball, and gote sighte of our Dame
To bayte her Eyes, whyche kept the leads above
The gravel ground, wythe sleves tyde on the helme
On fomyng horse, with swordes and friendly hartes;
Wythe chere as though one shoulde another whelme
Where we have fought, and chased oft wyth dartes.

With Silver droppes the meade yet spreade for ruthe,
In active games of Nimbleness and Strength,

Where we dyd strayne trayned wyth swarmes of youthe
Our tender limmes, that yet shot up in lengthe.

The secrete groves which oft we made resounde,
Of pleasant playnte, and of our Ladies prayse,
Recordyng oft what grace eche one had founde,
What hope of spede, what dreade of long delayes.
The wylde forreste, the clothed holtes with grene,
With raynes availed and swiftly breathed horse;
Wyth cry of Houndes and merry blastes betwene,
Where we did chase the fearful hart of force.
The wyde vales eke, that harborde us eche nyghte,
Wherewyth, (alas) reviveth in my breste
The swete accorde, such slepes as yet delyght,
The pleasant dreames, the quyet bed of rest:
The secret thoughtes imparted with such trust;
The wanton talke, the dyvers chaunge of playe;
The Friendship sworne, eche promise kept so just,
Wherewith we past the wynter nyghte away.
And wyth thys thoughte, the bloud forsakes the face,
The teares berayne my chekes of deadly hewe,
The whyche as soone as sobbyng sighes, (alas!)
Upsupped have, thus, I my playnt renewe:
O place of blisse! renewer of my Woes!
Give me accompt where is my noble fere,
Whom in thy walles thou doest eche nyghte enclose,
To other leese, but unto me most deare:
Eccho (alas!) that doth my sorrow rewe,
Returns thereto a hollowe sounde of playnt;
Thus I alone, where all my freedome grewe,
In pryson pyne, wythe bondage and restraynt:
And with remembrance of the greater griefe,
To banishe the lesse I fynd my chief reliefe."

"POEMS of Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey," printed for W. Meares, 8vo. 1717, p. 12, collated with "SONGES AND SONNETTES, written by the Right Honourable Lord Henry Howard, late Earle of Surrey." Imprinted by Richard Tottell, 1567. Reprinted by E. Curll, 8vo. 1717. Surrey's POEMS are said to have been printed in 1565, 1567, 1569, and 1585 or 1587.

THE NEW YORK

PUBLIC DARKARY

SIR WILLIAM

WOOD.

THIS person was Marshal to the Regiment of Archers, as he informs us in a small volume published by himself, anno 1682, entituled "THE BOWMAN'S GLORY; or, ARCHERY REVIVED; giving an account of the many signal Favours vouchsafed to Archers and Archery by those Renowned Monarchs, King Henry VIII. James, and Charles I. as by their several gracious commissions here recited may appear. With a brief relation of the Manner of the Archers marching on several days of solemnity." Maitland, in his History of London, says, that the title of Sir was given to William Wood as a compliment of his brethren archers for his dexterity in shooting. But it is more likely to have been conferred on him royally, as the titles of Duke of Shoreditch, Marquis of Clerkenwell, &c. were on. some of his predecessors. He died September 4, 1691, aged 82 years, and was buried at St. James's Clerkenwell; having this Epitaph inscribed near his grave.

"Sir William Wood lyes very near this Stone,
"In's time in Archery excell'd by none;
"Few were his equals, and this Noble Art
"Has suffer'd now in the most tender Part.

Long did he live the Honour of the Bow, "And his long Life to That alone did owe: "But how can Art secure, or what can save

"Extreme Old Age from an appointed Grave?

"Where whistling Arrows did his Worth proclaim,
"And eternized his Memory and Name.'

This is preserved in Webb's Epitaphs, 1775. vol. 1, p. 260.

T