Edmund Spenser

(1552 - 13 January 1599 / London / England)

Edmund Spenser Poems

1. Amoretti LXXXI: Fayre Is My Love, When Her Fayre Golden Heares 10/30/2015
2. Amoretti XXX: My Love Is Like To Ice, And I To Fire 10/30/2015
3. ['Joy of my life, full oft for loving you'] 1/23/2016
4. Amoretti I: Happy ye leaves when as those lilly hands 1/25/2016
5. The Faerie Queene (Dedicatory Sonnets) 4/16/2015
6. Sonnet Xxxv 12/31/2002
7. Sonnet Xxxix 12/31/2002
8. Sonnet Xxxviii 12/31/2002
9. Sonnet Xxxii 12/31/2002
10. The Shepheardes Calender: August 4/7/2010
11. The Shepheardes Calender: June 4/7/2010
12. The Shepheardes Calender: December 4/7/2010
13. Sonnet Xxxi 12/31/2002
14. Poem 97 12/31/2002
15. The Shepheardes Calender: July 4/7/2010
16. Poem 91 12/31/2002
17. The Shepheardes Calender: September 4/7/2010
18. Sonnet Xxv 12/31/2002
19. The Shepheardes Calender: Februarie 4/7/2010
20. The Shepheardes Calender: May 4/7/2010
21. Sonnet Vii 12/31/2002
22. Sonnet Lxxxiii 12/31/2002
23. Sonnet Lxxxii 12/31/2002
24. Poem 5 12/31/2002
25. Poem 6 12/31/2002
26. Sonnet Xxxvi 12/31/2002
27. Sonnet Lxxxiiii 12/31/2002
28. Sonnet Lxxxviii 12/31/2002
29. The Shepheardes Calender: November 4/7/2010
30. Sonnet Lxxvi 12/31/2002
31. Sonnet Lxxi 12/31/2002
32. The Visions Of Petrarch 4/7/2010
33. Sonnet Xxix 12/31/2002
34. Sonnet Liii 12/31/2002
35. Sonnet L 12/31/2002
36. Sonnet Lxxxv 12/31/2002
37. The Ruines Of Time 4/7/2010
38. Sonnet Liiii 12/31/2002
39. Sonnet Lx 12/31/2002
40. Sonnet Xxxiii 12/31/2002
Best Poem of Edmund Spenser

My Love Is Like To Ice

My love is like to ice, and I to fire:
How comes it then that this her cold so great
Is not dissolved through my so hot desire,
But harder grows the more I her entreat?
Or how comes it that my exceeding heat
Is not allayed by her heart-frozen cold,
But that I burn much more in boiling sweat,
And feel my flames augmented manifold?
What more miraculous thing may be told,
That fire, which all things melts, should harden ice,
And ice, which is congeal's with senseless cold,
Should kindle fire by wonderful device?
Such is the power of love in gentle ...

Read the full of My Love Is Like To Ice

Sonnet Lxxxv

THe world that cannot deeme of worthy things,
when I doe praise her, say I doe but flatter:
so does the Cuckow, when the Mauis sings,
begin his witlesse note apace to clatter.
But they that skill not of so heauenly matter,
all that they know not, enuy or admyre,
rather then enuy let them wonder at her,
but not to deeme of her desert aspyre.
Deepe in the closet of my parts entyre,

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