Poem by Edmund Spenser

Amoretti 27. Faire Proud! now tell me, why should faire be proud

Faire Proud! now tell me, why should faire be proud,
Sith all worlds glorie is but drosse uncleane,
And in the shade of death it selfe shall shroud,
However now thereof ye little weene!
That goodly idoll, now so gay beseene*,
Shall doffe her fleshes borrowd fayre attyre,
And be forgot as it had never beene,
That many now much worship and admire!
Ne any then shall after it inquire,
Ne any mention shall thereof remaine,
But what this verse, that never shall expyre,
Shall to you purchas with her thankles pain!
  Faire! be no lenger proud of that shall perish,
  But that which shall you make immortall cherish.

[* Beseene, appearing.] 

1. Amoretti 67. Lyke as a huntsman, after weary chace
2. Amoretti 80. After so long a race as I have run
3. Amoretti 21. Was it the worke of Nature or of Art
4. Amoretti 87. Since I have lackt the comfort of that light
5. Amoretti 88. Lyke as the culver on the bared bough

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