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Amoretti: Sonnet 52 Post by :David_Thompson Category :Poems Author :Edmund Spenser Date :March 2011 Read :3426

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Amoretti: Sonnet 52

So oft as homeward I from her depart,
I go lyke one that, having lost the field,
Is prisoner led away with heavy hart,
Despoyld of warlike armes and knowen shield.
So doe I now my self a prisoner yield
To sorrow and to solitary paine,
From presence of my dearest deare exylde,
Long-while alone in languor to remaine.
There let no thought of ioy, or pleasure vaine,
Dare to approch, that may my solace breed;
Bet sudden* dumps**, and drery sad disdayne
Of all worlds gladnesse, more my torment feed.
So I her absens will my penaunce make,
That of her presens I my meed may take.


(* _Sudden_, Qu. sullen?)
(** _Dumps_, lamentations.)





(The end)
Edmund Spenser's poem: Amoretti: Sonnet 52

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