Edmund Spenser

(1552 - 13 January 1599 / London / England)

Edmund Spenser Poems

121. Sonnet Xlv 12/31/2002
122. Sonnet Xliii 12/31/2002
123. Sonnet Lii 12/31/2002
124. Sonnet Lxiii 12/31/2002
125. Sonnet Xvi 12/31/2002
126. Sonnet Xxxiiii 12/31/2002
127. Poem 9 12/31/2002
128. The Shepheardes Calender: Januarie 4/7/2010
129. Sonnet Lxi 12/31/2002
130. The Faerie Queene, Book Iii, Canto Vi 1/1/2004
131. Muiopotmos, Or The Fate Of The Butterflie 4/7/2010
132. Sonnet Xv 12/31/2002
133. Poem 19 12/31/2002
134. Whilst It Is Prime 1/4/2003
135. Virgils Gnat 4/7/2010
136. Sonnet Lvii 12/31/2002
137. Ruins Of Rome, By Bellay 1/3/2003
138. Sonnet Xxx 12/31/2002
139. Poem 10 12/31/2002
140. Sonnet Xiii 12/31/2002
141. The Teares Of The Muses 4/7/2010
142. Poem 21 12/31/2002
143. An Hymne In Honour Of Love 4/7/2010
144. The Faerie Queene, Book Vi, Canto X 1/1/2004
145. Sonnet Lv 12/31/2002
146. Sonnet Ix 12/31/2002
147. Sonnet Lxvii 12/31/2002
148. Amoretti Xxii: This Holy Season 1/1/2004
149. The Tamed Deer 1/3/2003
150. Sonnet I 12/31/2002
151. An Hymn Of Heavenly Beauty 1/1/2004
152. The Shepheardes Calender: April 1/1/2004
153. Iambicum Trimetrum 1/3/2003
154. The Faerie Queene, Book I, Canto Iv (Excerpts) 1/1/2004
155. An Hymn In Honour Of Beauty 1/1/2004
156. The Faerie Queene: Book I, Canto I 1/1/2004
157. Mutability 1/3/2003
158. Amoretti Lxxiv: Most Happy Letters 1/3/2003
159. Prothalamion 1/3/2003
160. Amoretti Lxviii: Most Glorious Lord Of Life 1/1/2004
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 Xlv

LEaue lady, in your glasse of christall clene,
Your goodly selfe for euermore to vew:
and in my selfe, my inward selfe I meane,
most liuely lyke behold your semblant trew.
Within my hart, though hardly it can shew,
thing so diuine to vew of earthly eye:
the fayre Idea of your celestiall hew,
and euery part remaines immortally:
And were it not that through your cruelty,

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