Category Poetry

Amoretti LXXIX: Men Call you Fair BY EDMUND SPENSER Men call you fair, and you do credit it, For that your self ye daily such do…

Amoretti LXXIV: Most Happy Letters BY EDMUND SPENSER Most happy letters, fram’d by skilful trade, With which that happy name was first design’d: The which three…

Amoretti LXXI: I joy to see how in your drawen work BY EDMUND SPENSER I joy to see how in your drawen work, Your selfe unto…

Amoretti LXX: Fresh spring the herald of loves mighty king BY EDMUND SPENSER Fresh spring the herald of loves mighty king, In whose cote armour richly…

Amoretti LXVIII: Most Glorious Lord of Life BY EDMUND SPENSER Most glorious Lord of life, that on this day, Didst make thy triumph over death and…

Amoretti LXVII: Like as a Huntsman BY EDMUND SPENSER Like as a huntsman after weary chase, Seeing the game from him escap’d away, Sits down to…

Amoretti LXVI: “To all those happy blessings which ye have” BY EDMUND SPENSER To all those happy blessings which ye have, With plenteous hand by heaven…

Amoretti LXII: “The weary yeare his race now having run” BY EDMUND SPENSER The weary yeare his race now having run, The new begins his compast…

Amoretti LV: So oft as I her beauty do behold BY EDMUND SPENSER So oft as I her beauty do behold, And therewith do her cruelty…

Amoretti LIV: Of this worlds Theatre in which we stay BY EDMUND SPENSER Of this worlds Theatre in which we stay, My love lyke the Spectator…