Edmund Spenser (c. 1552–1599)

Alle digte af Edmund Spenser på Kalliope ordnet alfabetisk efter titel.

A

After long stormes and tempests sad assay

After so long a race as I haue run

Ah why hath nature to so hard a hart

Arion, when through tempests cruel wracke

As Diane hunted on a day

B

Being my selfe captyued here in care

Be nought dismayd that her vnmoued mind

C

Comming to kisse her lyps, (such grace I found)

D

Dayly when I do seeke and sew for peace

Doe I not see that fayrest ymages

E

F

Faire proud now tell me why should faire be proud

Fayre bosome fraught with vertues richest tresure

Fayre cruell, why are ye so fierce and cruell?

Fayre eyes, the myrrour of my mazed hart

Fayre is my loue, when her fayre golden heares

Fayre ye be sure, but cruell and vnkind

Fresh spring the herald of loues mighty king

G

Great wrong I doe, I can it not deny

G: W. senior, to the Author

H

Happy ye leaues when as those lilly hands

How long shall this lyke dying lyfe endure

I

I ioy to see how in your drawen work

Innocent paper whom too cruell hand

In that proud port, which her so goodly graceth

In vaine I seeke and sew to her for grace

In youth before I waxed old

Ioy of my life, full oft for louing you

I saw in secret to my Dame

Is it her nature or is it her will

L

Lackyng my loue I go from place to place

Leaue lady in your glasse of christall clene

Let not one sparke of filthy lustfull fyre

Long languishing in double malady

Long-while I sought to what I might compare

Lyke as a huntsman after weary chace

Lyke as a ship that through the Ocean wyde

Lyke as the Culuer on the bared bough

M

Mark when she smiles with amiable cheare

Men call you fayre, and you doe credit it

More then most faire, full of the liuing fire

Most glorious Lord of lyfe that on this day

Most happy letters fram’d by skilfull trade

My hungry eyes through greedy couetize

My loue is lyke to yse, and I to fyre

N

New yeare forth looking out of Ianus gate

O

Of this worlds Theatre in which we stay

Oft when my spirit doth spred her bolder winges

One day as I vnwarily did gaze

One day I sought with her hart-thrilling eies

One day I wrote her name vpon the strand

P

Penelope for her Vlisses sake

R

Retourne agayne my forces late dismayd

Rudely thou wrongest my deare harts desire

S

See how the stubborne damzell doth depraue

Shall I then silent be or shall I speake?

Since I did leaue the presence of my loue

Since I haue lackt the comfort of that light

So oft as homeward I from her depart

So oft as I her beauty doe behold

Sweet is the Rose, but growes vpon a brere

Sweet smile, the daughter of the Queene of loue

Sweet warriour when shall I haue peace with you?

T

Tell me when shall these wearie woes haue end

The doubt which ye misdeeme, fayre loue, is vaine

The famous warriors of the anticke world

The glorious image of the makers beautie

The glorious pourtraict of that Angels face

The laurell leafe, which you this day doe weare

The loue which me so cruelly tormenteth

The merry Cuckow, messenger of Spring

The Panther knowing that his spotted hyde

The paynefull smith with force of feruent heat

The rolling wheele that runneth often round

The souerayne beauty which I doo admyre

The weary yeare his race now hauing run

The world that cannot deeme of worthy things

They that in course of heauenly spheares are skild

This holy season fit to fast and pray

Thrise happie she, that is so well assured

To all those happy blessings which ye haue

Trust not the treason of those smyling lookes

V

Venemous toung tipt with vile adders sting

Vnquiet thought, whom at the first I bred

Vnrighteous Lord of loue what law is this

Vpon a day as loue lay sweetly slumbring

W

Was it a dreame, or did I see it playne

Was it the worke of nature or of Art

Weake is th’assurance that weake flesh reposeth

What guyle is this, that those her golden tresses

When I behold that beauties wonderment

When my abodes prefixed time is spent

When those renoumed noble Peres of Greece

Y

Ye tradefull Merchants that with weary toyle