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Major poets of English Renaissance

by studiodobs

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Edmund Spenser, Amoretti (1595)
Edmund Spenser
FAYRE eyes, the myrrour of my mazed hart ...
WHEN I behold that beauties wonderment ...
The souerayne beauty which I doo admyre ...
WAS it the worke of nature or of Art?
New yeare forth looking out of Janus gate ...
... if Gold, her locks are finest gold on ground ...
Dark is my day, whyles her fayre light I miss, And dead my life that wants such lively bliss.
MORE then most faire, full of the liuing fire ...
Lackyng my loue I go from place to place ...
One day I wrote her name upon the strand,
Penelope for her Ulysses' sake, Devised a web her wooers to deceive ...
Coming to kiss her lips, such grace I found, Me seemed I smelled a garden of sweet flowers ...
Since I have lacked the comfort of that light ...
Shakespeare, Sonnets
William Shakespeare - Sonnet 54, 1609
William Shakespeare (1564-1616)
William Shakespeare
Love, whose month is ever May ...
Then let not winter's ragged hand deface In thee thy summer, ere thou be distill'd ...
But flowers distilled, though they with winter meet ...
When forty winters shall besiege thy brow ...
Do not swear by the moon ...
In me thou see'st the twilight of such day, As after sunset fadeth in the west ...
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night ... When lofty trees I see barren of leaves ...
Roses have thorns ...
Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,
Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,
My love is like to ice, and I to fire ...
... And as the morning steals upon the night, melting the darkness ...
... With bootless labour swim against the tide ...
When daisies pied and violets blue ...
What's in a name ?
Her angel's face ...
The bud of joy, the blossom of the morn, the beam of light ...
Sweet is the rose, but grows upon a briar ...
... But thy eternal summer shall not fade ...
The bride
... my cloudy grief ...
Do wander now in darkness and dismay, through hidden perils round about ...
So my storm-beaten heart likewise is cheered, with that sunshine when cloudy looks are cleared.
... those tears are pearl which thy love sheds ...
Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly ...
... That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes.
... As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away ...
After long storms and tempests' sad assay ...
Back to Middle Ages
When I consider every thing that grows
The loue which me so cruelly tormenteth ...
And thus of all my harvest ...
The summer's flower is to the summer sweet ...
Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell of different flowers in odour and in hue ...
The Things That Cause a Quiet Life
... short the season, flowering today, tomorrow apt to fail ...
The winter's hurt recovers with the warm; The parched green restored is with shade.
They have made worms' meat of me ...