Edmund Spenser (1552?–1599)

RUDELY thou wrongest my dear heart’s desire,

In finding fault with her too portly pride:

The thing which I do most in her admire,

Is of the world unworthy most envied;

For in those lofty looks is close implied

Scorn of base things, and ’sdain of foul dishonour,

Threatening rash eyes which gaze on her so wide,

That loosely they ne dare to look upon her.

Such pride is praise, such portliness is honour,

That boldened innocence bears in her eyes;

And her fair countenance, like a goodly banner,

Spreads in defiance of all enemies.

Was never in this world aught worthy tried,

Without some spark of such self-pleasing pride.