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Click below to download : Amoretti: Sonnet 24 (Format : PDF)
Amoretti: Sonnet 24
When I behold that beauties wonderment,And rare perfection of each goodly part,
Of Natures skill the onely complement,
I honor and admire the Makers art.
But when I feele the bitter balefull smart
Which her fayre eyes unwares doe worke in mee,
That death out of theyr shiny beames doe dart,
I thinke that I a new Pandora see,
Whom all the gods in councell did agree
Into this sinfull world from heaven to send,
That she to wicked men a scourge should bee,
For all their faults with which they did offend.
But since ye are my scourge, I will intreat
That for my faults ye will me gently beat.
(The end)
Edmund Spenser's poem: Amoretti: Sonnet 24
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Penelope, for her Ulisses sake,Deviz'd a web her wooers to deceave;In which the worke that she all day did make,The same at night she did againe unreave.Such subtile craft my damzell doth conceave,Th'importune suit of my desire to shonne:For all that I in many dayes do weave,In one short houre I find by her undonne.So when I thinke to end that I begonne,I must begin and never bring to end:For with one looke she spils that long I sponne,And with one word my whole years work doth rend. Such labour like the spyders web I fynd, Whose fruitlesse worke
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