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 49. Fayre Cruell! why are ye so fierce and cruell?
2. Amoretti 32. The paynefull smith with force of fervent heat
3. Amoretti 46. When my abodes prefixed time is spent
4. Amoretti 73. Being my self captyved here in care
5. Amoretti 13. In that proud port which her so goodly graceth

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