Edmund Spenser




(Sonnet IX)

Long-while I sought to what I might compare
Those powerful eyes, which lighten my dark sprite,
Yet find I nought on earth to which I dare
Resemble th'image of their goodly light.
Not to the sun: for they do shine by night;
Nor to the moon: for they are changed never;
Nor to the stars: for they have purer sight;
Nor to the fire: for they consume not ever;
Nor to the lightening: for they still persever;
Nor to the diamond: for they are more tender;
Nor unto crystal: for nought may them sever;
Nor unto glass: such baseness mought offend her;
  Then to the Maker self they likest be,
  Whose light doth lighten all that here we see.