Surrey, Sidney and Wyatt

There were three of them: Sidney, Wyatt and Surrey –

early masters of the English sonnet.

No one least expected the ensuing fury

after one of them at length cried out “I’ve got it!”

and announced he’d found that sweet new patter.

Three times one were they: Wyatt, Surrey and Sidney

(notwithstanding the early death of the latter).

Trio, triumvirate. Nay: trinity!

To a youth they bequeathed it who’d make it his own.

Said the Earl, “Here’s your pen and your ink. Go try it.”

“What a gift! Who am I to deny it?

I can spruce up the cadence, enliven the tone.”

Father, Son, Holy Ghost. Neither quartered nor pared.

One greater than two, one less than two squared.

For thrice one were they: Surrey, Sidney and Wyatt.

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