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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required He left the church and solemn stage, To catch the breath of Tudor age. No more he drew the saintly ghost, To lecture to a weary host. He turned his pen to common men, And brought them laughing from their den. The priest and friar stepped aside, For human hearts and foolish pride. His works for courtly halls were made, Where brief and lively pieces played. These interludes of Tudor days Brought spoken voices to our plays. Four clever works bear Heywood's name, As witty verse debates for fame. They mocked the masks of our pretense, With sharp and biting eloquence. From o'er the sea, French farce took hold, While Chaucer's tales of pilgrims bold Inspired the warmth and human wit That made his comic staging fit. Yet though he laughed at human plight, Each ending sought the true and right. A gentle lesson, kind and clear, To guide the listener and the peer. He drew the proud, the vain, the loud, The vibrant, chattering, daily crowd. He showed how normal neighbors spoke, And turned our flaws into a joke. These tiny scenes of fun and play, Prepared the great and golden day. They paved the road, they lit the spark, Before the Bard and his high art. Beyond the stage, his clever pen Caught living speech of working men. He gathered proverbs from the street, Where life and common language meet. He warned to "look before you leap," Lest heavy errors make you weep. "Rome wasn't built in just a day," He wrote to help us find our way. "From frying pan and into fire," We climb from trouble up to higher. And "better safe than sorry" stood, To keep our daily choices good. When burdens grew too great to bear, "Two heads are better" than a pair. "A penny for your thoughts," he’d buy, With warmth and laughter in his eye. When loved ones walk "out of your sight," They soon are "out of mind" by night. But "many hands make light the work," When none of us our duties shirk. These old expressions, sharp and true, Are spoken still by me and you. The present day still holds his phrase, Born warm and bright in Tudor days.
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