Poem by Edmund Spenser

Amoretti 1. Happy, ye leaves! when as those lilly hands

Happy, ye leaves! when as those lilly hands
Which hold my life in their dead-doing might
Shall handle you, and hold in loves soft bands,
Lyke captives trembling at the victors sight.
And happy lines! on which, with starry light,
Those lamping eyes will deigne sometimes to look,
And reade the sorrowes of my dying spright,
And happy rymes! bath’d in the sacred brooke
Of Helicon, whence she derived is,
When ye behold that Angels blessed looke,
My soules long-lacked food, my heavens blis,
  Leaves, lines, and rymes, seeke her to please alone,
  Whom if ye please, I care for other none! 

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

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