Poem by Edmund Spenser

Amoretti 72. Oft when my spirit doth spred her bolder winges

Oft when my spirit doth spred her bolder winges,
In mind to mount up to the purest sky,
It down is weighd with thought of earthly things,
And clogd with burden of mortality:
Where, when that soverayne beauty it doth spy,
Resembling heavens glory in her light,
Drawn with sweet pleasures bayt it back doth fly,
And unto heaven forgets her former flight.
There my fraile fancy, fed with full delight,
Doth bathe in blisse, and mantleth most at ease;
Ne thinks of other heaven, but how it might
Her harts desire with most contentment please.
  Hart need not wish none other happinesse,
  But here on earth to have such hevens blisse. 

1. Amoretti 5. Then was the faire Dodonian tree far seene
2. Amoretti 41. Is it her nature, or is it her will
3. Amoretti 77. Was it a dreame, or did I see it playne?
4. Amoretti 65. The doubt which ye misdeeme, fayre Love, is vaine
5. Amoretti 87. Since I have lackt the comfort of that light

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