Poem by Edmund Spenser

Amoretti 14. Retourne agayne, my forces late dismayd

Retourne agayne, my forces late dismayd,
Unto the siege by you abandon’d quite.
Great shame it is to leave, like one afrayd,
So fayre a peece* for one repulse so light.
’Gaynst such strong castles needeth greater might
Then those small forts which ye were wont belay**:
Such haughty mynds, enur’d to hardy fight,
Disdayne to yield unto the first assay.
Bring therefore all the forces that ye may,
And lay incessant battery to her heart;
Playnts, prayers, vowes, ruth, sorrow, and dismay;
Those engins can the proudest love convert:
   And, if those fayle, fall down and dy before her;
   So dying live, and living do adore her.

[* Peece, fortress.]
[** Belay, beleaguer.] 

1. Amoretti 46. When my abodes prefixed time is spent
2. Amoretti 13. In that proud port which her so goodly graceth
3. Amoretti 23. Penelope, for her Ulisses sake
4. Amoretti 69. The famous warriors of the anticke world
5. Amoretti 42. The love which me so cruelly tormenteth

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