Category Archives: Edmund Spenser

Amoretti LXXIX- Edmund Spenser

Men Call You Fair Men call you fair, and you do credit it,  For that your self ye daily such do see:  But the true fair, that is the gentle wit,  And vertuous mind, is much more prais’d of me.  … Continue reading

Rate this:

Posted in Edmund Spenser | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Amoretti LXXIV – Edmund Spenser

 Most Happy Letters Most happy letters, fram’d by skilful trade,  With which that happy name was first design’d:  The which three times thrice happy hath me made,  With gifts of body, fortune, and of mind.  The first my being to … Continue reading

Rate this:

Posted in Edmund Spenser | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Sonnet LX – Edmund Spenser

THey that in course of heauenly spheares are skild,  To euery planet point his sundry yeare:  in which her circles voyage is fulfild,  as Mars in three score yeares doth run his spheare  So since the winged God his planet … Continue reading

Rate this:

Posted in Edmund Spenser | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Sonnet LVI – Edmund Spenser

FAyre ye be sure, but cruell and vnkind,  As is a Tygre that with greedinesse  hunts after bloud, when he by chance doth find  a feeble beast, doth felly him oppresse.  Fayre be ye sure but proud and pittilesse,  as … Continue reading

Rate this:

Posted in Edmund Spenser | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Sonnet LIX – Edmund Spenser

THrise happie she, that is so well assured  Vnto her selfe and setled so in hart:  that nether will for better be allured,  ne feard with worse to any chaunce to start,  But like a steddy ship doth strongly part  … Continue reading

Rate this:

Posted in Edmund Spenser | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Sonnet XI – Edmund Spenser

DAyly when I do seeke and sew for peace,  And hostages doe offer for my truth:  she cruell warriour doth her selfe addresse,  to battell, and the weary war renew’th.  Ne wilbe moou’d with reason or with rewth,  to graunt … Continue reading

Rate this:

Posted in Edmund Spenser | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Sonnet LXXXII – Edmund Spenser

Ioy of my life, full oft for louing you  I blesse my lot, that was so lucky placed:  but then the more your owne mishap I rew,  that are so much by so meane loue embased.  For had the equall … Continue reading

Rate this:

Posted in Edmund Spenser | Tagged , , | Leave a comment