Calm was the day, and through the trembling air Sweet-breathing Zephyrus did softly play— A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay Hot Titan’s beams, which then did glister fair; When I (whom sullen care, Through discontent of my long fruitless stay In princes’ court, and expectation vain Of idle hopes, which still do fly away Like empty shadows,...Learn More

Was it a dreame, or did I see it playne,     a goodly table of pure yvory:     all spred with juncats, fit to entertayne     the greatest Prince with pompous roialty. Mongst which there in a silver dish did ly     twoo golden apples of unvalewd price:     far passing those which Hercules came by,     or those which Atalanta did entice: Exceeding...Learn More

                Sonnet LXXV from Amoretti One day I wrote her name upon the strand, But came the waves and washed it away: Again I wrote it with a second hand, But came the tide and made my pains his prey. Vain man (said she) that dost in vain assay A mortal thing so to immortalize; For I myself shall like to this decay, And eke my name be wiped...Learn More

Sweet warriour when shall I have peace with you?     High time it is, this warre now ended were:     which I no lenger can endure to sue,     ne your incessant battry more to beare: So weake my powres, so sore my wounds appeare,     that wonder is how I should live a jot,     seeing my hart through launched every where     with thousand arrowes,...Learn More

So oft as I her beauty doe behold,     And therewith doe her cruelty compare:     I marvaile of what substance was the mould     the which her made attonce so cruell faire. Not earth: for her high thoghts more heavenly are;     not water: for her love doth burne like fyre;     not ayre: for she is not so light or rare;     not fyre: for she doth...Learn More

Fayre ye be sure, but cruell and unkind,     As is a Tygre that with greedinesse     hunts after bloud, when he by chance doth find     a feeble beast, doth felly him oppresse. Fayre be ye sure but proud and pittilesse,     as is a storme, that all things doth prostrate:     finding a tree alone all comfortlesse,     beats on it strongly it to...Learn More

After so long a race as I have run     Through Faery land, which those six books compile,     give leave to rest me being halfe fordonne,     and gather to my selfe new breath awhile. Then as a steed refreshed after toyle,     Out of my prison I will breake anew:     and stoutly will that second worke assoyle,     with strong endevour and attention...Learn More