Seccombe and Arber, comps. Elizabethan Sonnets. 1904.
Amoretti and EpithalamionSonnet XXIV. When I behold that beautys wonderment
Edmund Spenser (1552?1599)W
And rare perfection of each goodly part;
Of nature’s skill the only complement;
I honour and admire the Maker’s art.
But when I feel the bitter, baleful smart,
Which her fair eyes unwares do work in me,
That death out of their shiny beams do dart;
I think that I a new Pandora see,
Whom all the Gods in council did agree
Into this sinful world from heaven to send;
That she to wicked men a scourge should be,
For all their faults with which they did offend.
But, since ye are my scourge, I will entreat,
That for my faults ye will me gently beat.