English poetry

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Sonnet XIII

IN that proud port, which her so goodly graceth,
Whiles her faire face she reares vp to the skie:
And to the ground her eie lids low embaseth,
Most goodly temperature ye may descry,
Myld humblesse mixt with awfull maiesty,
For looking on the earth whence she was borne:
Her minde remembreth her mortalitie,
What so is fayrest shall to earth returne.
But that same lofty countenance seemes to scorne
Base thing, & thinke how she to heauen may clime:
Treading downe earth as lothsome and forlorne,
That hinders heauenly thoughts with drossy slime.
Yet lowly still vouchsafe to looke on me,
Such lowlinesse shall make you lofty be.

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Poem Sonnet XIII - Edmund Spenser