Poem by Edmund Spenser

Amoretti 24. When I behold that beauties wonderment

When I behold that beauties wonderment,
And rare perfection of each goodly part,
Of Natures skill the onely complement,
I honor and admire the Makers art.
But when I feele the bitter balefull smart
Which her fayre eyes unwares doe worke in mee,
That death out of theyr shiny beames doe dart,
I thinke that I a new Pandora see,
Whom all the gods in councell did agree
Into this sinfull world from heaven to send,
That she to wicked men a scourge should bee,
For all their faults with which they did offend.
  But since ye are my scourge, I will intreat
  That for my faults ye will me gently beat. 

1. Amoretti 5. Then was the faire Dodonian tree far seene
2. Amoretti 77. Was it a dreame, or did I see it playne?
3. Amoretti 11. Dayly when I do seeke and sew for peace
4. Amoretti 41. Is it her nature, or is it her will
5. Amoretti 65. The doubt which ye misdeeme, fayre Love, is vaine

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