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 65. The doubt which ye misdeeme, fayre Love, is vaine
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 77. Was it a dreame, or did I see it playne?

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