Edmund Spenser (Эдмунд Спенсер)

Amoretti 33. Great wrong I doe, I can it not deny

Great wrong I doe, I can it not deny,
To that most sacred empresse, my dear dred,
Not finishing her Queene of Faëry,
That mote enlarge her living prayses, dead.
But Lodwick*, this of grace to me aread:
Do ye not thinck th’accomplishment of it
Sufficient worke for one mans simple head,
All were it, as the rest, but rudely writ?
How then should I, without another wit,
Thinck ever to endure so tedious toyle,
Sith that this one is tost with troublous fit
Of a proud Love, that doth my spirite spoyle?
  Cease, then, till she vouchsafe to grawnt me rest,
  Or lend you me another living brest.

[* I.e. Lodowick Bryskett.] 

1. Amoretti 10. Unrighteous Lord of love, what law is this
2. Amoretti 61. The glorious image of the Makers beautie
3. Amoretti 24. When I behold that beauties wonderment
4. Amoretti 52. So oft as homeward I from her depart
5. Amoretti 80. After so long a race as I have run

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1151

Последние стихотворения

To English version