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Poem by Edmund Spenser Amoretti 58. Weake is th’assurance that weake flesh reposeth By her that is most assured to her selfe. Weake is th’assurance that weake flesh reposeth In her own powre, and scorneth others ayde; That soonest fals, when as she most supposeth Her selfe assur’d, and is of nought affrayd, All flesh is frayle, and all her strength unstayd, Like a vaine bubble blowen up with ayre: Devouring tyme and changeful chance have prayd* Her glorious pride, that none may it repayre. Ne none so rich or wise, so strong or fayre, But fayleth, trusting on his owne assurance: And he that standeth on the hyghest stayre Fals lowest; for on earth nought hath endurance. Why then doe ye, proud fayre, misdeeme so farre, That to your selfe ye most assured arre! [* Prayd, preyed upon.] Edmund Spenser Edmund Spenser's other poems:
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