Amoretti.[*]

[* These Sonnets furnish us with a circumstantial and very interesting history of Spenser’s second courtship, which, after many repulses, was successfully terminated by the marriage celebrated in the Epithalamion. As these poems were entered in the Stationers’ Registers on the 19th of November, 1594, we may infer that they cover a period of time extending from the end of 1592 to the summer of 1594. It is possible, however, that these last dates may be a year too late, and that Spenser was married in 1593. We cannot be sure of the year, but we know, from the 266th verse of the Epithalamion, that the day was the feast of St. Barnabas, June 11 of the Old Style. In the 74th sonnet we are directly told that the lady’s name was Elizabeth. In the 61st, she is said to be of the “Brood of Angels, heavenly born.” From this and many similar expressions, interpreted by the laws of Anagram, and taken in conjunction with various circumstances which do not require to be stated here, it may be inferred that her surname was Nagle. C.]

I.

Happy, ye leaves! when as those lilly hands Which hold my life in their dead-doing might Shall handle you, and hold in loves soft bands, Lyke captives trembling at the victors sight. And happy lines! on which, with starry light, Those lamping eyes will deigne sometimes to look, And reade the sorrowes of my dying spright, And happy rymes! bath’d in the sacred brooke Of Helicon, whence she derived is, When ye behold that Angels blessed looke, My soules long-lacked food, my heavens blis, Leaves, lines, and rymes, seeke her to please alone, Whom if ye please, I care for other none!

II.

Unquiet thought! whom at the first I bred Of th’inward bale of my love-pined hart, And sithens have with sighes and sorrowes fed, Till greater then my wombe thou woxen art, Breake forth at length out of the inner part, In which thou lurkest lyke to vipers brood, And seeke some succour both to ease my smart, And also to sustayne thy selfe with food. But if in presence of that fayrest Proud Thou chance to come, fall lowly at her feet; And with meek humblesse and afflicted mood Pardon for thee, and grace for me, intreat: Which if she graunt, then live, and my love cherish: If not, die soone, and I with thee will perish.

III.

The soverayne beauty which I doo admyre, Witnesse the world how worthy to be prayzed! The light wherof hath kindled heavenly fyre In my fraile spirit, by her from basenesse raysed; That being now with her huge brightnesse dazed, Base thing I can no more endure to view: But, looking still on her, I stand amazed At wondrous sight of so celestiall hew. So when my toung would speak her praises dew, It stopped is with thoughts astonishment; And when my pen would write her titles true, It ravisht is with fancies wonderment: Yet in my hart I then both speak and write The wonder that my wit cannot endite.

IV.

New yeare, forth looking out of Ianus gate, Doth seeme to promise hope of new delight, And, bidding th’old adieu, his passed date Bids all old thoughts to die in dumpish* spright; And calling forth out of sad Winters night Fresh Love, that long hath slept in cheerlesse bower, Wils him awake, and soone about him dight His wanton wings and darts of deadly power. For lusty Spring now in his timely howre Is ready to come forth, him to receive; And warns the Earth with divers colord flowre To decke hir selfe, and her faire mantle weave. Then you, faire flowre! in whom fresh youth doth raine, Prepare your selfe new love to entertaine. [l Dumpish, mournful.]

V.

Rudely thou wrongest my deare harts desire, In finding fault with her too portly pride: The thing which I doo most in her admire, Is of the world unworthy most envide. For in those lofty lookes is close implide Scorn of base things, and sdeigne of foul dishonor; Thretning rash eies which gaze on her so wide, That loosely they ne dare to looke upon her. Such pride is praise, such portlinesse is honor, That boldned innocence beares in hir eies, And her faire countenaunce, like a goodly banner, Spreds in defiaunce of all enemies. Was never in this world ought worthy tride*, Without some spark of such self-pleasing pride. [* Tride, found.]

VI.

Be nought dismayd that her unmoved mind Doth still persist in her rebellious pride: Such love, not lyke to lusts of baser kynd, The harder wonne, the firmer will abide. The durefull oake whose sap is not yet dride Is long ere it conceive the kindling fyre; But when it once doth burne, it doth divide Great heat, and makes his flames to heaven aspire. So hard it is to kindle new desire In gentle brest, that shall endure for ever: Deepe is the wound that dints the parts entire* With chaste affects, that naught but death can sever. Then thinke not long in taking litle paine To knit the knot that ever shall remaine. [* Entire, inward.]

VII.

Fayre eyes! the myrrour of my mazed hart, What wondrous vertue is contayn’d in you, The which both lyfe and death forth from you dart Into the obiect of your mighty view? For when ye mildly looke with lovely hew, Then is my soule with life and love inspired: But when ye lowre, or looke on me askew, Then do I die, as one with lightning fyred. But since that lyfe is more then death desyred, Looke ever lovely, as becomes you best; That your bright beams, of my weak eies admyred, May kindle living fire within my brest. Such life should be the honor of your light, Such death the sad ensample of your might.