The famous “Phoenix Portrait” of Queen Elizabeth, created by Nicholas Hilliard in the 1570s after she had turned forty in 1573 (Rigoursly controlling her image, the Queen had herself portrayed as red-haired and fresh-faced, a wrinkle-free young woman
“But as the Bird of Wonder dies, the Maiden Phoenix, her ashes create another heir, as great in admiration as herself” – Archbishop Cranmer in Henry VIII, 5.4, speaking of Queen Elizabeth as the Phoenix from whose ashes a new heir will arise.
While looking through my notes for additions to Reason 52 why Edward de Vere Earl of Oxford wrote the works of “Shakespeare,” an entirely separate piece of evidence became apparent — the clear link between Oxford’s appearance in 1581 before Queen Elizabeth as “the Knight of the Tree of the Sunne” and the allegorical elegy The Phoenix and Turtle, printed in 1601 as by “William Shake-speare” in a compilation of verses called Love’s Martyr or Rosalins Complaint.
No. 53 of 100 Reasons why Oxford=Shakespeare is that the enigma of The Phoenix and Turtle in 1601 begins to dissolve, and ultimately disappears, when Edward de Vere is viewed as the author and this extraordinary link is fully realized.
The Phoenix pendant is right above Elizabeth’s hand
Edward de Vere in January 1581 depicted Elizabeth as the Phoenix, the mythical bird that consumes itself in flames ignited by the sun, but is then reborn from its own ashes. Well before then the Queen had used the Phoenix as a symbol of her chastity and of the rebirth (through succession to the throne) of her Tudor dynasty.
In the same tiltyard performance, Oxford depicted himself as the Queen’s loyal Knight devoted to protecting “the Tree of the Sunne” — the single or sole Arabian tree in which the Phoenix had her nest, symbolic of the English throne and Elizabeth’s dynastic seat.
The Acacia Tree, which Oxford called “The Tree of the Sunne” in 1581, is “the sole Arabian tree” in “The Phoenix and Turtle” of 1601
The earl’s boy-page delivered an oration to the Queen describing how the earl had made “a solemn vow to incorporate his heart into that Tree,” adding that “as there is but one Sun to shine over it, one root to give life unto it, one top to maintain Majesty, so there should be but one Knight, either to live or die for the defense thereof.”
Oxford was symbolically merging with Elizabeth, as if they were a single entity, and pledging to protect the Queen and her dynasty with his “constant loyalty” as well as his life.
In 1601, twenty years later, The Phoenix and Turtle in Love’s Martyr opens with that same Sun-Tree or dynastic throne of Elizabeth-the-Phoenix, but now an imposter or usurper (the bird with the loudest singing voice) is calling all others (the English people) to gather in mourning at a funeral:
Cover page of “Loves Martyr” (1601)
Let the bird of loudest lay
On the sole Arabian tree
Herald sad and trumpet be,
To whose sound chaste wings obey.
In the next part it will become clear that the usurper or imposter is James Stuart, King James VI of Scotland, who, now in 1601, is being prepared behind the scenes to succeed Elizabeth on the throne when she dies. (The Queen will die two years later, in 1603, and James will be proclaimed King James I of England, replacing the House of Tudor with the Stuart dynasty).
Oxford, previously the “Knight of the Tree of the Sunne” who had pledged to Elizabeth-the-Phoenix that his “life should end before his loyalty” to her, is now in 1601 the equally loyal bird known as the Turtle-Dove.
A Turtle-Dove (Oriental)
The Phoenix and Turtle becomes a lament for Elizabeth and Oxford, whose mutual dynastic hopes for the next Tudor succession have gone up in flames:
Here the anthem doth commence:
Love and constancy is dead.
Phoenix and the turtle fled
In a mutual flame from hence
The poem is also a funeral dirge for the imminent death of “the Phoenix’ nest” or Elizabeth’s throne, along with the disappearance of her Tudor dynasty. The future for which Oxford and the Queen had hoped could no longer happen; no such future would be recorded in posterity:
Death is now the Phoenix’ nest,
And the turtle’s loyal breast
To eternity doth rest.
Leaving no posterity
Part Two of this Reason will explore the deeper aspect of this amazing link between Edward de Vere’s pledge of loyalty to the Queen in 1581 and the printing of The Phoenix and Turtle as by “Shake-speare” in 1601.
[I highly recommend the website The Place 2 Be for its material on this subject and acknowledge its contribution to my posting here.]
Hank Whittemore's Shakespeare Blog 
This poem speaks out load so clearly when you are an Oxfordian. As it happens with religious people, Stratfordians love this poem to continue being an enigma.
Thanks for drawing attention to this poem, Hank. I just read a 2009 article by Boris Borukhov in Notes & Queries (56:77-81). He deepens the mystery of this book with his conclusion —
“So, was the author of Love’s Martyr Robert Chester of Royston? For the reasons given above, such a supposition seems to me both unfounded and implausible. This is not, however, to say that we know who this author was. Alas, we do not. ”
I wish I had the reference, but I once ran across a book at the Folger that built a strong case that Love’s Martyr was not published in the year claimed. The long poem in the book is said to be translated from the Italian, but it is now thought to be an original poem. And if there was no Robert Chester associated with the book, there’s a lot of deception going on here. All of which sounds consistent with Edward de Vere (who, I believe, wrote the two poems by “Ignoto” printed the page before “Let the bird of loudest lay”) having a hand in the whole thing, as he may have done with Paradise of Daintie Devises.