Poem by Edmund Spenser

Amoretti 5. Rudely thou wrongest my deare harts desire

Rudely thou wrongest my deare harts desire,
In finding fault with her too portly pride:
The thing which I doo most in her admire,
Is of the world unworthy most envide.
For in those lofty lookes is close implide
Scorn of base things, and sdeigne of foul dishonor;
Thretning rash eies which gaze on her so wide,
That loosely they ne dare to looke upon her.
Such pride is praise, such portlinesse is honor,
That boldned innocence beares in hir eies,
And her faire countenaunce, like a goodly banner,
Spreds in defiaunce of all enemies.
  Was never in this world ought worthy tride*,
  Without some spark of such self-pleasing pride.

[* Tride, found.] 

1. Amoretti 63. After long stormes and tempests sad assay
2. Amoretti 46. When my abodes prefixed time is spent
3. Amoretti 43. Shall I then silent be, or shall I speake?
4. Amoretti 59. Thrise happie she that is so well assured
5. Amoretti 49. Fayre Cruell! why are ye so fierce and cruell?

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