Surrey, the Granville of a former age: Matchless his pen, victorious was his lance; Bold in the lists, and graceful in the dance. - Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey

So cruel prison how could betide, alas,
As proud Windsor? where I, in lust and joy,
With a King's son, my childish years did pass,
In greater feast than Priam's sons of Troy.
Where each sweet place returns a taste full sour.

London! hast thou accused me
Of breach of laws? the root of strife!
Within whose breast did boil to see,
So fervent hot, thy dissolute life.

Surrey, for his justness of thought, correctness of style, and purity of expression, may justly be pronounced the first English classical poet.