The Tudor Poet John
Skelton was one of Henry’s tutors, a Tudor Tutor if you will. Henry composed melodies and his extant poems
were written for singing. Henry himself
played the lute, organ, and harpsichord, and one of his anthems, “O Lord, the
Maker of All Things,” was sung in English Cathedrals.
History has left us
with the image of Henry late in life as an obese man with severe health
problems and a brutal disposition; but he was once a young man filled with
vitality and grace, perhaps even with a winsomeness that was attractive, but
lo, how the years and exigencies of time and circumstance changed him.
The question arises:
How does our increasing age and the exigencies of our own times and
circumstances change us? Will we go on
as heliotropes always facing the Sun and always being transformed from light to
radiant light; or will we become beasts long after we have been seen as winsome
children of God?
"Green Groweth the Holly" by King Henry VIII
Green
groweth the holly,
so
doth the ivy.
Though
winter blasts
blow
never so high,
Green
groweth the holly.
As
the holly groweth green
And never changeth hue,
So
I am, and ever hath been,
Unto my lady true.
Green
groweth the holly,
so
doth the ivy.
Though
winter blasts
blow
never so high,
Green
groweth the holly.
As
the holly groweth green,
With ivy all alone,
When
flowerys cannot be seen
And green-wood leaves be gone,
Green
groweth the holly,
so
doth the ivy.
Though
winter blasts
blow
never so high,
Green
groweth the holly.
Now
unto my lady
Promise to her I make:
From
all other only
To her I me betake.
Green
groweth the holly,
so
doth the ivy.
Though
winter blasts
blow
never so high,
Green
groweth the holly.
Adieu,
mine own lady,
Adieu, my specïal,
Who
hath my heart truly,
Be sure, and ever shall.
Green
groweth the holly,
so
doth the ivy.
Though
winter blasts
blow
never so high,
Green
groweth the holly.
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