Poem by Edmund Spenser

Amoretti 22. THis holy season, fit to fast and pray

This holy season*, fit to fast and pray,
Men to devotion ought to be inclynd:
Therefore, I lykewise, on so holy day,
For my sweet saynt some service fit will find.
Her temple fayre is built within my mind,
In which her glorious ymage placed is;
On which my thoughts doo day and night attend,
Lyke sacred priests that never thinke amisse.
There I to her, as th’author of my blisse,
Will builde an altar to appease her yre;
And on the same my hart will sacrifise,
Burning in flames of pure and chaste desyre:
  The which vouchsafe, O Goddesse, to accept,
  Amongst thy deerest relicks to be kept.

[* I.e. Easter] 

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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