English poetry

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Sonnet LXXI

I Ioy to see how in your drawen work,
Your selfe vnto the Bee ye doe compare;
And me vnto the Spyder that doth lurke,
In close awayt to catch her vnaware.
Right so to your selfe were caught in cunning snare
Of a deare foe, and thralled to his loue:
In whose streight bands ye now captiued are
So firmely, that ye neuer may remoue.
But as your worke is wouen all about,
With woodbynd flowers and fragrant Eglantine:
So sweet your prison you in time shall proue,
With many deare delights bedecked fyne.
And all thensforth eternall peace shall see.
Betweene the Spyder and the gentle Bee.


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Poem Sonnet LXXI - Edmund Spenser