Edmund Spenser Poems
|161.||A Hymn Of Heavenly Beauty||1/3/2003|
|163.||A Hymn In Honour Of Beauty||1/3/2003|
|164.||Amoretti Lxxix: Men Call You Fair||1/1/2004|
|165.||So Let Us Love||1/3/2003|
|166.||Amoretti Iii: The Sovereign Beauty||1/3/2003|
|169.||Amoretti Lxvii: Like As A Huntsman||1/3/2003|
|173.||Amoretti Lxxv: One Day I Wrote Her Name||1/3/2003|
|176.||Ice And Fire||1/3/2003|
|177.||My Love Is Like To Ice||1/3/2003|
Comments about 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 ...
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.