Henry King

(16 January 1592 – 30 September 1669 / Worminghall, Buckinghamshire)

Henry King Poems

1. The Change 4/20/2010
2. To My Honoured Friend Mr. George Sandys 4/20/2010
3. The Forlorn Hope 4/20/2010
4. Sonnet. Vvere Thy Heart Soft As Thou Art Faire 4/20/2010
5. To The Same Lady Upon Mr. Burtons Melancholy 4/20/2010
6. St. Valentines Day 4/20/2010
7. The Acquittance 4/20/2010
8. Sonnet. Go Thou That Vainly Do'st Mine Eyes Invite 4/20/2010
9. On Two Children Dying Of One Disease, And Buried In One Grave 4/20/2010
10. Psalm I. 4/20/2010
11. Upon The Kings Happy Return From Scotland 4/20/2010
12. To His Unconstant Friend 4/20/2010
13. To A Friend Upon Overbury's Wife Given To Her 4/20/2010
14. The Legacy 4/20/2010
15. To The Queen At Oxford 4/20/2010
16. The Forfeiture 4/20/2010
17. To A Lady Who Sent Me A Copy Of Verses At My Going To Bed 4/20/2010
18. Sonnet. I Prethee Turn That Face Away 4/20/2010
19. Sonnet. When I Entreat, Either Thou Wilt Not Hear 4/20/2010
20. Sonnet. The Double Rock 4/20/2010
21. Paradox. That Fruition Destroyes Love 4/20/2010
22. Sonnet. Dry Those Fair, Those Chrystal Eyes 4/20/2010
23. The Pink 4/20/2010
24. The Retreat 4/20/2010
25. The Short Wooing 4/20/2010
26. The Vow-Breaker 4/20/2010
27. To One Demanding Why Wine Sparkles 4/20/2010
28. The Labyrinth 4/20/2010
29. To My Sister Anne King, Who Chid Me In Verse For Being Angry 4/20/2010
30. The Dirge 4/20/2010
31. The Farewell 4/20/2010
32. The Defence 4/20/2010
33. The Boyes Answer To The Blackmoor 4/20/2010
34. Tell Me No More How Fair She Is 4/20/2010
35. Upon The Death Of My Ever Desired Friend Doctor Donne Dean Of Pauls 4/20/2010
36. To A. R. Vpon The Same 4/20/2010
37. Paradox. That It Is Best For A Young Maid To Marry An Old Man 4/20/2010
38. To My Dead Friend Ben Johnson 4/20/2010
39. Upon A Braid Of Hair In A Heart Sent By Mrs. E. H. 4/20/2010
40. To His Friends Of Christ-Church Upon The Mislike Of The Marriage Of The Arts Acted At Woodstock 4/20/2010

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Best Poem of Henry King

Sic Vita

Like to the falling of a star,
Or as the flights of eagles are,
Or like the fresh spring's gaudy hue,
Or silver drops of morning dew,
Or like a wind that chafes the flood,
Or bubbles which on water stood:
Even such is man, whose borrowed light
Is straight called in, and paid to night.
The wind blows out, the bubble dies;
The spring entombed in autumn lies;
The dew dries up, the star is shot;
The flight is past, and man forgot.

Read the full of Sic Vita

An Acknowledgment

My best of friends! what needs a chain to tie
One by your merit bound a Votarie?
Think you I have some plot upon my peace,
I would this bondage change for a release?
Since 'twas my fate your prisoner to be,
Heav'n knows I nothing fear but libertie.
Yet you do well that study to prevent,
After so rich a stock of favour spent
On one so worthless, lest my memory

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