Poem by Edmund Spenser

Amoretti 66. To all those happy blessings which ye have

To all those happy blessings which ye have
With plenteous hand by heaven upon you thrown,
This one disparagement they to you gave,
That ye your love lent to so meane a one.
Ye, whose high worths surpassing paragon
Could not on earth have found one fit for mate,
Ne but in heaven matchable to none,
Why did ye stoup unto so lowly state?
But ye thereby much greater glory gate,
Then had ye sorted with a princes pere:
For now your light doth more it selfe dilate,
And, in my darknesse, greater doth appeare.
  Yet, since your light hath once enlumind me,
  With my reflex yours shall encreased be. 

1. Amoretti 61. The glorious image of the Makers beautie
2. Amoretti 10. Unrighteous Lord of love, what law is this
3. Amoretti 24. When I behold that beauties wonderment
4. Amoretti 36. Tell me, when shall these wearie woes have end
5. Amoretti 80. After so long a race as I have run

Print

1627 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version