Edmund Spenser

(1552 - 13 January 1599 / London / England)

Edmund Spenser Poems

1. Amoretti LXXXI: Fayre Is My Love, When Her Fayre Golden Heares 10/30/2015
2. Amoretti XXX: My Love Is Like To Ice, And I To Fire 10/30/2015
3. ['Joy of my life, full oft for loving you'] 1/23/2016
4. Amoretti I: Happy ye leaves when as those lilly hands 1/25/2016
5. The Faerie Queene (Dedicatory Sonnets) 4/16/2015
6. Sonnet Xxxv 12/31/2002
7. Sonnet Xxxix 12/31/2002
8. Sonnet Xxxii 12/31/2002
9. The Shepheardes Calender: August 4/7/2010
10. The Shepheardes Calender: June 4/7/2010
11. Sonnet Xxxviii 12/31/2002
12. The Shepheardes Calender: December 4/7/2010
13. Sonnet Xxxi 12/31/2002
14. Poem 97 12/31/2002
15. The Shepheardes Calender: July 4/7/2010
16. Poem 91 12/31/2002
17. The Shepheardes Calender: September 4/7/2010
18. Sonnet Xxv 12/31/2002
19. The Shepheardes Calender: Februarie 4/7/2010
20. The Shepheardes Calender: May 4/7/2010
21. Sonnet Vii 12/31/2002
22. Sonnet Lxxxiii 12/31/2002
23. Sonnet Lxxxii 12/31/2002
24. Poem 5 12/31/2002
25. Poem 6 12/31/2002
26. Sonnet Lxxxiiii 12/31/2002
27. Sonnet Lxxxviii 12/31/2002
28. The Shepheardes Calender: November 4/7/2010
29. Sonnet Lxxi 12/31/2002
30. Sonnet Lxxvi 12/31/2002
31. The Visions Of Petrarch 4/7/2010
32. Sonnet Xxix 12/31/2002
33. Sonnet Liii 12/31/2002
34. Sonnet L 12/31/2002
35. Sonnet Lxxxv 12/31/2002
36. The Ruines Of Time 4/7/2010
37. Sonnet Liiii 12/31/2002
38. Sonnet Lx 12/31/2002
39. Sonnet Xxxiii 12/31/2002
40. Poem 92 12/31/2002
Best Poem of Edmund Spenser

My Love Is Like To Ice

My love is like to ice, and I to fire:
How comes it then that this her cold so great
Is not dissolved through my so hot desire,
But harder grows the more I her entreat?
Or how comes it that my exceeding heat
Is not allayed by her heart-frozen cold,
But that I burn much more in boiling sweat,
And feel my flames augmented manifold?
What more miraculous thing may be told,
That fire, which all things melts, should harden ice,
And ice, which is congeal's with senseless cold,
Should kindle fire by wonderful device?
Such is the power of love in gentle ...

Read the full of My Love Is Like To Ice

Sonnet Lxvi

TO all those happy blessings which ye haue,
with plenteous hand by heauen vpon you thrown:
this one disparagement they to you gaue,
that ye your loue lent to so meane a one.
Yee whose high worths surpassing paragon,
could not on earth haue found one fit for mate,
ne but in heauen matchable to none,
why did ye stoup vnto so lowly state.
But ye thereby much greater glory gate,

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