Edmund Spenser

(1552 - 13 January 1599 / London / England)

Edmund Spenser Poems

1. The Faerie Queene (Dedicatory Sonnets) 4/16/2015
2. Sonnet Xxxv 12/31/2002
3. Sonnet Xxxix 12/31/2002
4. Sonnet Xxxviii 12/31/2002
5. Sonnet Xxxii 12/31/2002
6. The Shepheardes Calender: August 4/7/2010
7. The Shepheardes Calender: June 4/7/2010
8. Sonnet Xxxi 12/31/2002
9. The Shepheardes Calender: December 4/7/2010
10. The Shepheardes Calender: July 4/7/2010
11. Poem 97 12/31/2002
12. Poem 91 12/31/2002
13. The Shepheardes Calender: September 4/7/2010
14. Sonnet Xxv 12/31/2002
15. The Shepheardes Calender: Februarie 4/7/2010
16. The Shepheardes Calender: May 4/7/2010
17. Sonnet Vii 12/31/2002
18. Sonnet Xxxvi 12/31/2002
19. Sonnet Lxxxiii 12/31/2002
20. Sonnet Lxxxii 12/31/2002
21. Poem 5 12/31/2002
22. Poem 6 12/31/2002
23. Sonnet Lxxxiiii 12/31/2002
24. Sonnet Lxxxviii 12/31/2002
25. The Visions Of Petrarch 4/7/2010
26. Sonnet Lxxi 12/31/2002
27. The Shepheardes Calender: November 4/7/2010
28. Sonnet Lxxvi 12/31/2002
29. Sonnet Xxix 12/31/2002
30. Sonnet Liii 12/31/2002
31. Sonnet L 12/31/2002
32. Sonnet Lxxxv 12/31/2002
33. The Ruines Of Time 4/7/2010
34. Sonnet Liiii 12/31/2002
35. Sonnet Lx 12/31/2002
36. Sonnet Xxxiii 12/31/2002
37. Poem 92 12/31/2002
38. Poem 12 12/31/2002
39. Sonnet Lxxix 12/31/2002
40. Poem 93 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 Xlv

LEaue lady, in your glasse of christall clene,
Your goodly selfe for euermore to vew:
and in my selfe, my inward selfe I meane,
most liuely lyke behold your semblant trew.
Within my hart, though hardly it can shew,
thing so diuine to vew of earthly eye:
the fayre Idea of your celestiall hew,
and euery part remaines immortally:
And were it not that through your cruelty,

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