Poem by Edmund Spenser

Amoretti 41. Is it her nature, or is it her will

Is it her nature, or is it her will,
To be so cruell to an humbled foe?
If nature, then she may it mend with skill;
If will, then she at will may will forgoe.
But if her nature and her will be so,
That she will plague the man that loves her most,
And take delight t’encrease a wretches woe,
Then all her natures goodly guifts are lost;
And that same glorious beauties ydle boast
Is but a bayt such wretches to beguile,
As, being long in her loves tempest tost,
She meanes at last to make her pitious spoyle.
  O fayrest fayre! let never it be named,
  That so fayre beauty was so fowly shamed. 

1. Amoretti 46. When my abodes prefixed time is spent
2. Amoretti 42. The love which me so cruelly tormenteth
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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