Edmund Spenser

(1552 - 13 January 1599 / London / England)

Edmund Spenser Poems

1. Poem 20 12/31/2002
2. Sonnet Lxxxv 12/31/2002
3. Poem 8 12/31/2002
4. Poem 22 12/31/2002
5. Sonnet Xxxviii 12/31/2002
6. Sonnet Xliiii 12/31/2002
7. Poem 95 12/31/2002
8. Sonnet Xxxix 12/31/2002
9. Sonnet Xxv 12/31/2002
10. Sonnet Xxviii 12/31/2002
11. Sonnet X 12/31/2002
12. Sonnet Lxxxiiii 12/31/2002
13. Poem 6 12/31/2002
14. Poem 5 12/31/2002
15. Poem 90 12/31/2002
16. Poem 91 12/31/2002
17. Sonnet Xviii 12/31/2002
18. Sonnet Liiii 12/31/2002
19. Sonnet Xxxv 12/31/2002
20. Poem 93 12/31/2002
21. Poem 94 12/31/2002
22. Sonnet Xxxii 12/31/2002
23. Sonnet Vii 12/31/2002
24. Sonnet Viii 12/31/2002
25. Sonnet Xlii 12/31/2002
26. Sonnet Lx 12/31/2002
27. Sonnet Liii 12/31/2002
28. Sonnet Lxxiii 12/31/2002
29. Sonnet Lxxxiii 12/31/2002
30. Poem 92 12/31/2002
31. Sonnet Lviii By Her That Is Most Assured To Her Selfe 12/31/2002
32. Sonnet Xlviii 12/31/2002
33. Poem 97 12/31/2002
34. Sonnet Lxxxii 12/31/2002
35. Sonnet Lxxxviii 12/31/2002
36. Sonnet Lxiiii 12/31/2002
37. Sonnet Xl 12/31/2002
38. Sonnet Xxix 12/31/2002
39. Sonnet Xiiii 12/31/2002
40. Sonnet Lix 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

Iambicum Trimetrum

Unhappy verse, the witness of my unhappy state,
Make thy self flutt'ring wings of thy fast flying
Thought, and fly forth unto my love, wheresoever she be:
Whether lying restless in heavy bed, or else
Sitting so cheerless at the cheerful board, or else
Playing alone careless on her heavenly virginals.
If in bed, tell her, that my eyes can take no rest:
If at board, tell her, that my mouth can eat no meat:
If at her virginals, tell her, I can hear no mirth.

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