Wil soone conceive, and learne to construe well.
Amoretti XLIV
When those renoumed noble peres of Greece
Thrugh stubborn pride amongst themselves did jar,
Forgetfull of the famous golden fleece, 605
Then Orpheus with his harp theyr strife did bar.
But this continuall cruell civill warre,
The which my selfe against my selfe doe make,
Whilest my weak powres of passions warreid arre,
No skill can stint, nor reason can aslake. 610
But when in hand my tunelesse harp I take,
Then doe I more augment my foes despight,
And griefe renew, and passions doe awake
To battaile, fresh against my selfe to fight.
Mongst whome the more I seeke to settle peace, 615
The more I fynd their malice to increace.
Amoretti XLV
Leave, lady, in your glasse of christall clene
Your goodly selfe for evermore to vew,
And in my selfe, my inward selfe I meane,
Most lively lyke behold your semblant trew. 620
Within my hart, though hardly it can shew
Thing so divine to vew of earthly eye,
The fayre idea of your celestiall hew
And every part remaines immortally:
And were it not that through your cruelty 625
With sorrow dimmed and deformd it were,
The goodly ymage of your visnomy
Clearer then christall would therein appere.
But if your selfe in me ye playne will see,
Remove the cause by which your fayre beames darkned be. 630
Amoretti XLVI
When my abodes prefixed time is spent,
My cruell fayre streight bids me wend my way:
But then from heaven most hideous stormes are sent,
As willing me against her will to stay.
Whom then shall I, or heaven or her, obay? 635
The heavens know best what is the best for me:
But as she will, whose will my life doth sway,
My lower heaven, so it perforce must bee.
But ye high hevens, that all this sorowe see,
Sith all your tempests cannot hold me backe, 640
Aswage your stormes, or else both you and she
Will both together me too sorely wrack.
Enough it is for one man to sustaine
The stormes which she alone on me doth raine.
Amoretti XLVII
Trust not the treason of those smyling lookes, 645
Untill ye have theyr guylefull traynes well tryde:
For they are lyke but unto golden hookes,
That from the foolish fish theyr bayts do hyde:
So she with flattring smyles weake harts doth guyde
Unto her love, and tempte to theyr decay; 650
Whome being caught, she kills with cruell pryde,
And feeds at pleasure on the wretched pray.
Yet even whylst her bloody hands them slay,
Her eyes looke lovely, and upon them smyle,
That they take pleasure in her cruell play: 655
And, dying, doe them selves of payne be guyle.
O mighty charm! which makes men love theyr bane,
And thinck they dy with pleasure, live with payne.
Amoretti XLVIII
Innocent paper, whom too cruell hand
Did make the matter to avenge her yre, 660
And ere she could thy cause wel understand,
Did sacrifize unto the greedy fyre:
Well worthy thou to have found better hyre
Then so bad end, for hereticks ordayned:
Yet heresy nor treason didst conspire, 665
But plead thy maisters cause, unjustly payned:
Whom she, all carelesse of his griefe, constrayned
To utter forth the anguish of his hart:
And would not heare, when he to her complayned
The piteous passion of his dying smart. 670
Yet live for ever, though against her will,
And speake her good, though she requite it ill.
Amoretti XLIX
Fayre cruell, why are ye so fierce and cruell?
Is it because your eyes have powre to kill?
Then know, that mercy is the Mighties jewell, 675
And greater glory thinke to save then spill.
But if it be your pleasure and proud will
To shew the powre of your imperious eyes,
Then not on him that never thought you ill,
But bend your force against your enemyes. 680
Let them feele th’ utmost of your crueltyes,
And kill with looks, as cockatrices doo:
But him that at your footstoole humbled lies,
With mercifull regard, give mercy too.
Such mercy shal you make admyred to be; 685
So shall you live by giving life to me.
Amoretti L
Long languishing in double malady,
Of my harts wound and of my bodies greife,
There came to me a leach, that would apply
Fit medicines for my bodies best reliefe. 690
Vayne man! (quod I) that hast but little priefe
In deep discovery of the mynds disease,
Is not the hart of all the body chiefe,
And rules the members as it selfe doth please?
Then with some cordialls seeke first to appease 695
The inward languour of my wounded hart,
And then my body shall have shortly ease:
But such sweet cordialls passe physitions art.
Then, my lyfes leach, doe you your skill reveale,
And with one salve both hart and body heale. 700
Amoretti LI
Doe I not see that fayrest ymages
Of hardest marble are of purpose made,
For that they should endure through many ages,
Ne let theyr famous moniments to fade?
Why then doe I, untrainde in lovers trade, 705
Her hardnes blame, which I should more commend?
Sith never ought was excellent assayde,
Which was not hard t’ atchive and bring to end:
Ne ought so hard, but he that would attend
Mote soften it and to his will allure: 710
So doe I hope her stubborne hart to bend,
And that it then more stedfast will endure.
Onely my paines wil be the more to get her:
But having her, my joy wil be the greater.
Amoretti LII
So oft as homeward I from her depart, 715
I go lyke one that, having lost the field,
Is prisoner led away with heavy hart,
Despoyld of warlike armes and knowen shield.
So doe I now my selfe a prisoner yeeld
To sorrow and to solitary paine: 720
From presence of my dearest deare exylde,
Longwhile alone in languor to remaine.
There let no thought of joy, or pleasure vaine,
Dare to approch, that may my solace breed;
But sudden dumps, and drery sad disdayne 725
Of all worlds gladnesse, more my torment feed.
So I her absens will my penaunce make,
That of her presens I my meed may take.
Amoretti LIII
The panther, knowing that his spotted hyde
Doth please all beasts, but that his looks them fray, 730
Within a bush his dreadfull head doth hide,
To let them gaze, whylest he on them may pray.
Right so my cruell fayre with me doth play:
For with the goodly semblant of her hew
She doth allure me to mine owne decay, 735
And then no mercy will unto me shew.
Great shame it is, thing so divine in view,
Made for to be the worlds most ornament,
To
make the bayte her gazers to embrew:
Good shames to be to ill an instrument: 740
But mercy doth with beautie best agree,
As in theyr Maker ye them best may see.
Amoretti LIV
Of this worlds theatre in which we stay,
My love, lyke the spectator, ydly sits,
Beholding me, that all the pageants play, 745
Disguysing diversly my troubled wits.
Sometimes I joy, when glad occasion fits,
And mask in myrth lyke to a comedy:
Soone after, when my joy to sorrow flits,
I waile, and make my woes a tragedy. 750
Yet she, beholding me with constant eye,
Delights not in my merth, nor rues my smart:
But when I laugh, she mocks, and when I cry,
She laughes, and hardens evermore her hart.
What then can move her? If nor merth nor mone, 755
She is no woman, but a sencelesse stone.
Amoretti LV
So oft as I her beauty doe behold,
And therewith doe her cruelty compare,
I marvaile of what substance was the mould
The which her made attonce so cruell faire. 760
Not earth; for her high thoghts more heavenly are:
Not water; for her love doth burne like fyre:
Not ayre; for she is not so light or rare:
Not fyre; for she doth friese with faint desire.
Then needs another element inquire, 765
Whereof she mote be made; that is the skye.
For to the heaven her haughty looks aspire,
And eke her mind is pure immortall hye.
Then sith to heaven ye lykened are the best,
Be lyke in mercy as in all the rest. 770
Amoretti LVI
Fayre ye be sure, but cruell and unkind,
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, 775
As is a storme, that all things doth prostrate,
Finding a tree alone all comfortlesse,
Beats on it strongly, it to ruinate.
Fayre be ye sure, but hard and obstinate,
As is a rocke amidst the raging floods, 780
Gaynst which a ship, of succour desolate,
Doth suffer wreck both of her selfe and goods.
That ship, that tree, and that same beast am I,
Whom ye doe wreck, doe ruine, and destroy.
Amoretti LVII
Sweet warriour, when shall I have peace with you? 785
High time it is this warre now ended were:
Which I no lenger can endure to sue,
Ne your incessant battry more to beare.
So weake my powres, so sore my wounds appeare,
That wonder is how I should live a jot, 790
Seeing my hart through launched every where
With thousand arrowes which your eies have shot:
Yet shoot ye sharpely still, and spare me not,
But glory thinke to make these cruel stoures.
Ye cruell one! what glory can be got, 795
In slaying him that would live gladly yours?
Make peace therefore, and graunt me timely grace,
That al my wounds wil heale in little space.
Amoretti LVIII
By her that is most assured to her selfe
Weake is th’ assurance that weake flesh reposeth 800
In her owne powre, and scorneth others ayde;
That soonest fals, when as she most supposeth
Her selfe assurd, and is of nought affrayd.
All flesh is frayle, and all her strength unstayd,
Like a vaine bubble blowen up with ayre: 805
Devouring tyme and changeful chance have prayd
Her glories pride, that none may it repayre.
Ne none so rich or wise, so strong or fayre,
But fayleth, trusting on his owne assurance:
And he that standeth on the hyghest stayre 810
Fals lowest: for on earth nought hath enduraunce.
Why then doe ye, proud fayre, misdeeme so farre,
That to your selfe ye most assured arre?
Amoretti LIX
Thrise happie she that is so well assured
Unto her selfe, and setled so in hart, 815
That nether will for better be allured,
Ne feard with worse to any chaunce to start:
But, like a steddy ship, doth strongly part
The raging waves, and keepes her course aright,
Ne ought for tempest doth from it depart, 820
Ne ought for fayrer weathers false delight.
Such selfe assurance need not feare the spight
Of grudging foes, ne favour seek of friends:
But in the stay of her owne stedfast might,
Nether to one her selfe nor other bends. 825
Most happy she that most assured doth rest;
But he most happy who such one loves best.
Amoretti LX
They that in course of heavenly spheares are skild
To every planet point his sundry yeare,
In which her circles voyage is fulfild: 830
As Mars in three score yeares doth run his spheare.
So since the winged god his planet cleare
Began in me to move, one yeare is spent:
The which doth longer unto me appeare,
Then al those fourty which my life outwent. 835
Then, by that count which lovers books invent,
The spheare of Cupid fourty yeares containes:
Which I have wasted in long languishment,
That seemd the longer for my greater paines.
But let my loves fayre planet short her wayes 840
This yeare ensuing, or else short my dayes.
Amoretti LXI
The glorious image of the Makers beautie,
My soverayne saynt, the idoll of my thought,
Dare not henceforth, above the bounds of dewtie,
T’ accuse of pride, or rashly blame for ought. 845
For being, as she is, divinely wrought,
And of the brood of angels hevenly borne,
And with the crew of blessed saynts upbrought,
Each of which did her with theyr guifts adorne,
The bud of joy, the blossome of the morne, 850
The beame of light, whom mortal eyes admyre,
What reason is it then but she should scorne
Base things, that to her love too bold aspire?
Such heavenly formes ought rather worshipt be,
Then dare be lov’d by men of meane degree. 855
Amoretti LXII
The weary yeare his race now having run,
The new begins his compast course anew:
With shew of morning mylde he hath begun,
Betokening peace and plenty to ensew.
So let us, which this chaunge of weather vew, 860
Chaunge eeke our mynds, and former lives amend;
The old yeares sinnes forepast let us eschew,
And fly the faults with which we did offend.
Then shall the new yeares joy forth freshly send
Into the glooming world his gladsome ray; 865
And all these stormes, which now his beauty blend,
Shall turne to caulmes, and tymely cleare away.
So likewise, love, cheare you your heavy spright,
And chaunge old yeares annoy to new delight.
Amoretti LXIII
After long stormes and tempests sad assay, 870
Which hardly I endured heretofore,
In dread of death, and daungerous dismay,
With which my silly barke was tossed sore,
I doe at length descry the happy shore,
In which I hope ere long for to arryve: 875
/> Fayre soyle it seemes from far, and fraught with store
Of all that deare and daynty is alyve.
Most happy he that can at last atchyve
The joyous safety of so sweet a rest;
Whose least delight sufficeth to deprive 880
Remembrance of all paines which him opprest.
All paines are nothing in respect of this,
All sorrowes short that gaine eternall blisse.
Amoretti LXIV
Comming to kisse her lyps, (such grace I found)
Me seemd I smelt a gardin of sweet flowres, 885
That dainty odours from them threw around,
For damzels fit to decke their lovers bowres.
Her lips did smell lyke unto gillyflowers;
Her ruddy cheekes lyke unto roses red;
Her snowy browes lyke budded bellamoures; 890
Her lovely eyes lyke pincks but newly spred;
Her goodly bosome lyke a strawberry bed;
Her neck lyke to a bounch of cullambynes;
Her brest lyke lillyes, ere theyr leaves be shed;
Her nipples lyke yong blossomd jessemynes. 895
Such fragrant flowres doe give most odorous smell,
But her sweet odour did them all excell.
Amoretti LXV
The doubt which ye misdeeme, fayre love, is vaine,
That fondly feare to loose your liberty,
When loosing one, two liberties ye gayne, 900
And make him bond that bondage earst dyd fly.
Sweet be the bands the which true love doth tye,
Without constraynt or dread of any ill:
The gentle birde feeles no captivity
Within her cage, but singes and feeds her fill. 905
There Pride dare not approch, nor Discord spill
The league twixt them that loyal love hath bound:
But simple Truth and mutuall Good Will
Seekes with sweet peace to salve each others wound:
There Fayth doth fearlesse dwell in brasen towre, 910
And spotlesse Pleasure builds her sacred bowre.
Amoretti LXVI
Complete Works of Edmund Spenser Page 147
