Edmund Spenser

(1552 - 13 January 1599 / London / England)

Sonnet Lxiii - Poem by Edmund Spenser

AFter long stormes and tempests sad assay,
Which hardly I endured heretofore:
in dread of death and daungerous dismay,
with which my silly barke was tossed sore.
I doe at length descry the happy shore,
in which I hope ere long for to arryue,
fayre soyle it seemes from far & fraught with store
of all that deare and daynty is alyue.
Most happy he that can at last atchyue,
the ioyous safety of so sweet a rest:
whose least delight sufficeth to depriue,
remembrance of all paines which him opprest.
All paines are nothing in respect of this,
all sorrowes short that gaine eternall blisse.


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Read poems about / on: respect, happy, sad, hope, death, sonnet



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002



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