Author: Edmund Spenser

Lyke as a huntsman after weary chace, Seeing the game from him escapt away: Sits downe to rest him in […]

MArk when she smiles with amiable cheare, And tell me whereto can ye lyken it: When on each eyelid sweetly […]

LYke as the Culuer on the bared bough, Sits mourning for the absence of her mate; And in her songs […]

One day I wrote her name upon the strand, But came the waves and washed it away: Agayne I wrote […]

FRESH Spring, the herald of loves mighty king, In whose cote-armour richly are displayd All sorts of flowers, the which […]

The sovereign beauty which I do admire, Witness the world how worthy to be praised: The light whereof hath kindled […]

Was it a dreame, or did I see it playne, A goodly table of pure yvory: All spred with iuncats, […]

In praise of Eliza, Queen of the Shepherds SEE where she sits upon the grassie greene, (O seemely sight!) Yclad […]

FAyre ye be sure, but cruell and vnkind, As is a Tygre that with greedinesse Hunts after bloud, when he […]

My loue is now awake out of her dreame, And her fayre eyes like stars that dimmed were With darksome […]

SO oft as homeward I from her depart, I goe lyke one that hauing lost the field: Is prisoner led […]

THe loue which me so cruelly tormenteth, So pleasing is in my extreamest paine: That all the more my sorrow […]

RVdely thou wrongest my deare harts desire, In finding fault with her too portly pride: The thing which I doo […]

GReat wrong I doe, I can it not deny, To that most sacred Empresse my dear dred, Not finishing her […]

ONe day as I vnwarily did gaze On those fayre eyes my loues immortall light: The whiles my stonisht hart […]