Poem by Edmund Spenser

Amoretti 1. Happy, ye leaves! when as those lilly hands

Happy, ye leaves! when as those lilly hands
Which hold my life in their dead-doing might
Shall handle you, and hold in loves soft bands,
Lyke captives trembling at the victors sight.
And happy lines! on which, with starry light,
Those lamping eyes will deigne sometimes to look,
And reade the sorrowes of my dying spright,
And happy rymes! bath’d in the sacred brooke
Of Helicon, whence she derived is,
When ye behold that Angels blessed looke,
My soules long-lacked food, my heavens blis,
  Leaves, lines, and rymes, seeke her to please alone,
  Whom if ye please, I care for other none! 

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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