Poem by Edmund Spenser

Amoretti 18. The rolling wheele that runneth often round

The rolling wheele that runneth often round,
The hardest steele, in tract of time doth teare:
And drizling drops, that often doe redound*,
The firmest flint doth in continuance weare:
Yet cannot I, with many a drooping teare
And long intreaty, soften her hard hart,
That she will once vouchsafe my plaint to heare,
Or looke with pitty on my payneful smart.
But when I pleade, she bids me play my part;
And when I weep, she sayes, teares are but water;
And when I sigh, she sayes, I know the art;
And when I waile, she turnes hir selfe to laughter.
  So do I weepe, and wayle, and pleade in vaine,
  Whiles she as steele and flint doth still remayne.

[* Redound, overflow.] 

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 26. Sweet is the rose, but growes upon a brere

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