Poem by Edmund Spenser

Amoretti 28. The laurel-leafe which you this day doe weare

The laurel-leafe which you this day doe weare
Gives me great hope of your relenting mynd:
For since it is the badge which I doe beare*,
Ye, bearing it, doe seeme to me inclind.
The powre thereof, which ofte in me I find,
Let it likewise your gentle brest inspire
With sweet infusion, and put you in mind
Of that proud mayd whom now those leaves attyre:
Proud Daphne, scorning Phœbus lovely** fyre,
On the Thessalian shore from him did flie;
For which the gods, in theyr revengefull yre,
Did her transforme into a laurell-tree.
  Then fly no more, fayre Love, from Phebus chace,
  But in your brest his leafe and love embrace.

[* I. e. as poet-laureate.]
[** Lovely, loving.] 

1. Amoretti 46. When my abodes prefixed time is spent
2. Amoretti 43. Shall I then silent be, or shall I speake?
3. Amoretti 13. In that proud port which her so goodly graceth
4. Amoretti 69. The famous warriors of the anticke world
5. Amoretti 18. The rolling wheele that runneth often round

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