English poetry

Poems in English


Sonnet XII

ONe day I sought with her hart-thrilling eies,
To make a truce and termes to entertaine:
All fearlesse then of so false enimies,
Which sought me to entrap in treasons traine.
So as I then disarmed did remaine,
A wicked ambush which lay hidden long
In the close couert of her guilefull eyen,
Thence breaking forth did thick about me throng,
Too feeble I t’abide the brunt so strong,
Was forst to yeeld my selfe into their hands:
Who me captiuing streight with rigorous wrong,
Haue euer since me kept in cruell bands.
So Ladie now to you I doo complaine,
Against your eies that iustice I may gaine.


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Poem Sonnet XII - Edmund Spenser